


Ring of Gemini

by KittysJiri (KafufuQ)



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 47,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KafufuQ/pseuds/KittysJiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About 100 years ago, there was a war within an elven colony which wiped out a large portion of the elves. The remainder traveled to a new location and settled to form a village in a forest. Shortly afterwards, an elf named Eiliandir was born. The boy would eventually grow to hate the boring every day life and often wished for something, anything really, to happen. One day, he got his wish, though not in the way that he was expecting.</p><p>*CURRENTLY UNDERGOING A MASSIVE WORLD (AND THEREFORE SLIGHTLY STORY-BASED) CHANGE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

         

 

                The blinding rays from the sun shined through the high window of the hut and onto closed magenta-ringed hot pink eyes, waking the owner. Groaning, the tanned elven boy sat up and yawned as he raked his fingers through his long silver hair. He groggily got out of his bed made of blankets and put on a pair of black leggings and blue tunic with a black belt around his waist. After slipping on his dark brown moccasin-like boots he left his hut.

                He breathed in the fresh air. His village was in a forest of somewhat tall trees. A few generations before his own, the people of the village had settled right by a small pool of water –which was perfect for drinking –that’s connected to a river. The trees weren’t tall enough to build homes on but at least they had fresh water. Their homes were made from the wood of trees used to clear space for the village and the roofs were typically covered in dried grasses.

                The elf walked towards the clearing in the village where a large tree surrounded by tables were located, being careful not to step on the free-roaming animals. The fire pit beside it had been put out and very few people were in the area. Had he overslept?

                “I see that you have finally awoken Eiliandir,” he heard.

                The boy looked over and was met with a woman who looked strikingly like him, the only exception was his freckles, the magenta in his eyes, and the markings that covered his body. Speaking of markings, his seemed to accentuate his body rather than being “thrown” on. He had one that followed the line down his stomach and back, a few that accentuated his thighs, some that followed the underside of his eyes, and a couple others.

                “Good morrow Mother,” the boy smiled.

                Methendis looked at him with slight anger and annoyance as she placed her free hand on her hip, a basket full of herbs in her other arm.

                “Morrow? The day is nearly halfway over! ‘Twas your time to help with the breakfast and you slept through it!” she scolded, “Govon was kind enough to go in your stead when he had heard wind that you were not going to wake in time.”

                Eiliandir cringed at the name. Gorvon was a childhood friend of his who tended to try and one-up him in nearly everything. He supposed that the competitive nature of their friendship was healthy in some aspects but he knew that he was never going to hear the end of this situation.

                “You be sure to thank him when you see him. Also, not only must you get firewood because I am certain that you noticed that our stock is dwindling,” he didn’t notice at all, “but _now_ you must also help with dinner!” she sighed, “You are fortunate that I had saved a portion of breakfast for you. Prepare your tools so that that you may depart once you are finished eating.”

                “Yes ma’am,” he drawled.

                His mother walked away, leaving the boy feeling only slightly remorseful. He was up late thinking about how much he hated that each and every day felt exactly the same. He wanted something different to happen to shake things up a little. Sighing, he walked over to the bowl and plate at the benches around the large tree towards the back of his small village. It was a simple pork soup with boiled vegetables and a side of bread which made it easier to stuff it down his throat rather quickly. After placing his dishes into a water-filled trough, he returned to his hut and gathered his supplies –ropes, a bow and arrows in a quiver, an axe and a hunting knife –and his gear –a waist satchel and his dark brown leather gauntlets. Stepping out of his hut, he decided to approach a tall, dark-haired elven boy who was nearby.

                “Good day Gorvon,” he greeted unenthusiastically.

                “Hello Eiliandir. How do you fare? You must be quite well considering that you slept through half of the day,” he teased.

                “You and I both are aware that my behavior was highly unusual. But enough of that,” breathed Eiliandir, “I would like to thank you for taking over my duties due to my incompetence. I understand that it was your task to help with tonight’s meal, therefore I will be going in your stead.”

                “How kind of you. Today we agreed on something akin to crocodile.”

                Gorvon patted the smaller boy’s head instantly prompting a slap to the hand. Before Eiliandir could shout an insult, a slender hand was placed on his shoulder. Hot pink orbs looked behind him and locked onto green ones.

                “Oh! How do you Raenel?” the tanned elf smiled

                Just like Gorvon, Raenel was Eiliandir’s childhood friend, though they got along much better than the two boys.

                “Quite well,” she smiled as she played with her short gray hair, “I came to tell you to be careful on your venture out of the village. I am having an odd premonition about it. I am unsure if it be good or bad but tis there nonetheless.”

                “Thank you for your concern. I will try to be especially careful.”

                After giving his final farewells, Eiliandir headed west into the dense woods surrounding his village. The elf needed to go to the wetter area of the forest. It would be easier to find crocodiles over there but it wasn’t unlikely to find them closer in. As he approached said area, it dawned on him that to catch something like a crocodile _and_ bring back firewood, he would need to take two trips back to the village. If he wanted to trump Gorvon, he would have to do it all at once. It’s a good thing he brought extra rope.

               The smartest thing to do would be to get firewood first. Halting his movement, he surveyed the nearby trees. He walked up to a fairly thin and dying tree and removed the axe from his belt. Even though the tree was thin, it was still quite a thick tree. It took a while for it to be cut down, chopped up, stripped of its’ remaining leaves, and bound tightly with some rope.  

                Snap.

                The sound of a twig breaking put him on high alert. Turning in the direction of the noise, he was met with a crocodile making its way back towards the swamp-like area of the forest, completely ignoring his presence. Thinking quickly, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, drew it back in his bow, and aimed for the head of the reptile. His arrows weren’t strong enough to pierce the thick skin of the reptile but if he aimed just right, he could get it in a soft spot and inflict some damage.

                “Forgive me,” he whispered, releasing the arrow.

                The crocodile wailed distress, staggering as the arrow lodged itself in its eye. Eiliandir removed the axe from the ground and carefully approached the crocodile that was thrashing about. He knew that if he closed its’ mouth then he could stun it just long enough to decapitate or at least cut through its’ spine. The crocodile swung its’ thick tail around, nearly hitting the elf’s legs. He took the opportunity to proceed and in one swift movement, slid around to the front of the reptile and planted his foot firmly on the crocodile’s snout. He looked down at his prey, ready to cut into the flesh below him but paused when his eyes met the reptile’s. It looked so scared. Lowering his axe, he crouched down.

                “Do not look at me like that,” he said softly as he rubbed the reptile between the eyes, “I apologize but I need to feed my people. You do understand correct?”

                Standing up straight, he positioned the axe in his hand before swinging it down and lodging the blade about halfway through its neck. He was certain that it was dead, especially when he didn’t move after he removed his foot. Finally done with his job, he let out a relieved sigh. That was surprisingly easy. Maybe that was Raenel’s premonition? Using the remainder of the rope, he tied the firewood to the crocodile. Admiring his handiwork, he took a few steps back onto a small pile of leaves and immediately regretted his decision.

                “BLOODY IZIYI!” he bellowed in pain as he pulled his right leg up only to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

                A hunter’s trap was firmly clamped onto his leg just above the ankle, blood trickling from the wound. From the looks of it, it was an old, rusted spiked one and they were in pretty deep. He tried to pull it off but doing so only made it clamp down harder, causing the pain to be almost unbearable. Tears pricked at his eyes as small cries of pain fled his lips. The elven boy looked around for anything that could pry open the trap. The axe! It was right beside the crocodile! If only he could reach it. Enduring the pain, he leaned over, practically laying down and stretched his arm towards the weapon. Sadly, it was just out of reach. The chain that kept the trap from moving was taught, making movement difficult.

                “Sarqirelle!” he exclaimed as he pounded at the ground.

                “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” he heard.

                The elf froze. He didn’t recognize that voice. His village was the only one in the area, there should have been no one else in these woods. Hesitantly and slowly looking to his side and upwards, he was instantly put on guard by who was there, fear rushing through his veins.

               

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

               A man with semi-long blonde hair that faded into a greenish color towards the bottom with the left side of their head covered by silky green locks. All of that was mounted upon darkened skin that shined in the small bit of sunlight peeking through the foliage of the trees. The elven boy might not have been afraid if it weren’t for a few features. The man’s eyes were green, pupils dark yellow and slitted like a cat’s, and dark gray markings adorned his arms, torso and stomach. Eiliandir could barely see the small dark gray horns on the sides of his head and the backs of his jaw towards his pointed ears also seemed to be ridged. The man had green scales that covered the lower half of his body and arms, a tail akin to a snake’s (underbelly and all) with light green hair running down the length of it and pluming at the end. And… were those wings on his back?

                Eiliandir paled, a dragon! He knew that in his current predicament, he stood no chance against a dragon. He thought, perhaps he could scare him away, though he doubted it, he figured that there was no harm in trying. He still had his quiver on and after counting the amount of arrows on the ground, he discovered that he still had two left. His bow was by the dragon’s feet. Moving quickly, he sat up as he grabbed his bow, pulled out an arrow, and drew it back, aiming at the man’s face.

                “Stay back dragon!” the freckled boy warned.

                “Why do you point your weapon at me?”

                The dragon’s deep voice resonated in his ear drums. His accent was weird too. Melodic and slightly rhotic.

                “This trap is yours, is it not?” the elf asked, “I would much rather be defeated while fighting than to let you eat me!”

                “I can assure you that this trap is not mine nor do I wish to harm you.”

                “Lies! You dragons are nothing but liars!”

                He refused to believe anything that the dragon said. He was a green dragon, they’re known to be the worst –or rather the best –of the liars. Eiliandir didn’t have time to react as the dragon got down on one knee, grabbed the taught chain, inadvertently tugging on it. He cried out in pain, cursing under his breath.

                “Do you wish for this to be removed or not at all?” he grumbled, “I could most easily leave you here. I am sure that the other animals in the forest would love to eat you in my stead.”

                Was this man really trying to help him? It was odd… but there was no harm in receiving the dragon’s help. The question was, what would happen once it was off? Would he decide to kill him anyway? Whether he was left by himself or killed, it was a lose-lose situation. He would much rather be killed quickly than to suffer with his pain any longer only to be killed by an animal. Sighing, he lowered his bow, showing his submission.

                _‘I will keep it out in the possibility of him doing something questionable,’_ Eiliandir thought.

                The elf watched the blonde very closely as he seemed to be deep in thought. The dragon reached down to his gray loincloth-like shorts and ripped off the bottom edge of it before picking a thick stick off of the ground.

                “You may want to bite this,” offered the blonde.

                Receiving a look of confusion from the elf, he reiterated.

                “It is either this or your tongue.”

                Still rather puzzled about the use of the stick, he did as he was told and put the object in his mouth. Satisfied, the dragon grabbed the sides of the trap and without so much of a warning, slowly pried it open. It took everything in the elven boy’s power not to scream in pain as the spikes in his leg ripped fresh passageways through his flesh. With the sounds of the mechanism breaking, he spit out the stick, which had nearly been bitten in half. Heaving in pain, he finally understood the purpose of it. The dragon removed the elf’s boot before grabbing the previously discarded fabric and tightly tied it around the wounds, temporarily stopping any more blood from leaking out.

                “Be sure to have this properly taken care of,” he informed, “Now, from where do you fare?”

                “Why should I inform you of such things?!”

                “Your wounds would make it almost impossible to return on your own. I was going to carry you to a more reasonable distance.”

                Carried? The thought of being lifted like a man carried his bride made his cheeks dust pink with embarrassment.

                “N-No thank you!” he stammered, “I can return on my own!”

                The elf stood up, though wobbly, and after picking up his scattered weapons, boot, and his stack of wood tied to a crocodile, he began to limp home. Stopping once he was about a few feet away, he turned to face the dragon who was once again on his feet.

                “Thank you for your help.”

                The trek back was a long one. He had begun to bleed through the makeshift bandage within ten minutes of walking, leaving a small trail of blood in his wake. Each step made a crippling pain run up his leg, nearly debilitating him. Eventually, he did make it back to his village. His vision was blurry, it was hard to keep himself upright and he was having a hard time breathing. His condition of course didn’t go unnoticed by his village mates. He couldn’t even stand, his body wobbled in a struggle to not fall over. Their relieved smiles quickly turned into panicked faces.

                “Eiliandir! What has happened to you!?” someone asked.

                He was well aware that they were talking about his leg that was bleeding everywhere and the fact that he was pale because of it, but chose not to answer the question.

“I have acquired the meat for tonight’s meal, and I have retrieved firewood for my hut!” replied the elf shakily, “Though, I suppose that I may have gotten too much wood…”

                If anything, he could brush off his injury from his ‘battle’ with the crocodile but if anyone were to find out about the true reason… well, he’s not entirely sure what would happen. They would most likely laugh and ask for the true reason. They wouldn’t believe that a _dragon_ of all things helped him out of a trap.

                “-andir!”

                He looked up. Was someone calling him? Everything suddenly sounded so muffled. An elven man dressed in white was running towards him, a dark ring appeared around his vision.

                Was the floor always able to move? Was he falling? He doesn’t remember hitting the ground but instead falling onto a semi-hard surface.

 

 

 

                When the tanned elven boy opened his eyes the sun was peaking over the horizon, barely filling the hut with a dim light. Not at all sure as to where he was, he quickly sat up causing pain to erupt from his leg. Once the pain subsided, he looked at his surroundings. There were a few makeshift beds made of blankets and fabric stuffed with hay and leaves all around the floor. On the walls were wooden shelves covered in clay jars and there were herbs drying on the walls.

                Once he got a quick look, he figured out that he was in the medical hut; Nestor’s, who was the village doctor, to be exact. Of course there were other doctors but they were all mostly apprentices. He looked down at his stitched up and bandaged leg. He was tempted to get out of the bed but he knew that it would be difficult with his injury. The door to the hut opened as a person walked through.

                “I see that you have awaken young one.” noted the man as he ran his hand through his short, unruly white hair, “You gave the village quite a fright.”

                “My apologies.” chuckled Eiliandir.

                “You have been unconscious for nearly a day now.” he informed, sitting on the bed with him, “How is your wound? I take it that it still pains you.”

                “A day huh?” the elven boy repeated quietly, “It does still hurt but tis nothing that I cannot handle.”

                Nestor nodded his head.

                “If I may ask, what caused such an injury? At first, I thought it to be from the crocodile but tis unlike anything that I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

                Eiliandir looked at the man’s brown eyes. He was hesitant to answer. Even if he didn’t want the village to know about what had happened, he needed to give _some_ sort of explanation to him. He could tell him his original excuse of being attacked by the crocodile, but he was a terrible liar and Nestor knew it.

                “After I killed the crocodile… I may have… stepped into a hunter’s trap.” he mumbled.

                “A hunter’s trap?! We have not used one of those in ages! Perhaps it was one of the last to be used and you were the unfortunate soul to fall victim to it.” Nestor thought aloud, “How did you manage to escape?”

                Eiliandir paused.

               “What I am going to tell you will sound ridiculous, but please, do promise not to laugh at me.” receiving his word, he continued, “… as I was trying to free my foot from the spikes, a man had walked over to me and offered to help… the situation may not sound out of the ordinary, but the man… well… he was a dragon.”

                The hut was silent as Nestor processes his words.

                “That does sound ridiculous. A dragon… how odd.”

                “That was what I had thought as well,” said the freckled boy, “But I sensed no malicious intent from him. It was actually very difficult to read his aura.”

                Nestor sighed, once again running his hand through his hair.

                “Although… I was behaving unfavorably and as such I do wish to properly thank him for his assistance.”

                “Have you gone mad? Even if this dragon was docile I do not believe it to be a good idea to return to them.” argued the doctor.

                “I am aware Nestor but we do have statutes,” He started, “Dragon or not, he potentially saved me from an imminent demise. I am in his debt.”

                Nestor crossed his arms in silence, deep in thought. Eiliandir knew that he already won the argument.

                “You are correct, as much as it pains me to admit,” he sighed, “If the others ask, say that you were helped by a troll or something other than a dragon. The knowledge of a dragon nearby, be he harmless or not, is certain to cause panic. And, if that dragon does anything suspicious, you should flee immediately and not return to their side.”

                “Yes, of course,” he replied.

                Changing the subject, the doctor walked to the other side of the hut and grabbed a long walking stick while explaining how to care for his injury. Going slowly and carefully, he helped the injured elven boy onto his feet and handed him the stick. The two moved slowly to the boy’s hut. No one else was around quite yet as it was too early in the day. Upon reaching and entering his hut, he was met with his mother typing her hair up. When her eyes locked with his, her jaw fell in surprise, dropping the ribbon in her mouth onto the floor.

                “Eiliandir!” called his mother.

                 Methendis quickly walked over to her son and flicked his nose. He recoiled at the pinch of pain but nearly fell when he was hugged.

                “Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” she cried, “When I was told that you had returned injured and collapsed, I had thought for sure that I had lost you!”

                “Forgive me mother. I did not mean to give you such a fright,” the son cooed.

                His mother looked towards the doctor standing behind them, keeping the boy upright. She thanked him and assured the man that she could take care of her son from thereon out. After telling him to come back in a week or if anything felt weird beforehand, he bid them farewell, allowing the two to go deeper into the hut. Methendis, of course, asked for the details leading to his injury and he told her, keeping in mind Nestor’s advice to keep the dragon part out. Not surprisingly, she also replied with how he owed the man.

                As the day went on and he saw his elven brethren, he had to explain his story multiple times and each time that he did, he got the same answer in reply; ‘Oh! You are in their debt now! Do be sure to repay them!’ Why couldn’t anyone say something different? It annoyed him that everyone thought the same way. Sitting down on a log next to his cousin, Echiel who was about half his age, he complained to her about his thoughts, adding in that he didn’t really know how to even go about the initial ‘thank you, I now owe you’, part. He’d never been in debt before.

                “According to Father, it is customary to give a gift to your debtor,” she informed, golden eyes looking up to meet his, “For instance a basket or a necklace.”

                “Hmmm…” Eiliandir trailed.

                Eiliandir wasn’t a skilled person since he definitely wasn’t very nice when he was her age. He could fight and he could cook (sorta), if he had any other skills then he’d be surprised. He looked over at his cousin. She knew far more things than he did considering her age, but it was mostly because her father was a blacksmith. He taught her a lot of things about metal working.

                “Do you think that he would like a circlet?” he asked.

                “I have yet to meet anyone who does not,” replied Echiel.

                “Would you mind teaching me how to make one?”

                She smiled brightly, eagerly agreeing to do so as her dark locks bounced about. Due to his injury, he was in no condition to work around the village and so he had plenty of time to work on the item. The elf only hoped that when he returned to give the gift, the dragon would still be against killing him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

                After about a week or so of being incapacitated, Eiliandir’s leg had healed enough for him to go about his days normally. It was still painful to be on his foot for too long and he still had to wear bandages to keep his stitches clear of dirt, but he pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind. It was boring to do nothing while everyone else worked every day. As soon as it didn’t hurt as bad, he was on his feet, of course Nestor strongly advised against anything too physically demanding.        

                The sun would be setting in just a few hours. Even though he was dreading it, the elven boy knew that he needed to see that dragon before it had gotten too late. After placing the circlet that he had made into his satchel, he started his short journey into the forest. He really hoped that the dragon would like it. He had used an odd metal that becomes malleable and gains a permanent light green in color when heated, courtesy of his uncle and Echiel’s father, Túon the blacksmith. He had also accented it with small gems of different hues of blue and red. Speaking of the dragon, where would he even find him? The elf had met him in the forest but there was no guarantee that he would still be in the area. What if they never met again? He sighed. He was exceedingly nervous and as much as he wanted to turn back, there was a chance that the dragon was there.

                Making up his mind while taking a deep breath, he ventured deeper into the forest. The closer that he got to where he had met the blonde, the more that he couldn’t shake the fear that he was feeling. He was always taught to be afraid of dragons since they killed and ate his kind while wreaking havoc on anything that they wanted… but now he was _indebted_ to one? How cruel could life be? Since he was so deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice that he had walked past where he had met the dragon and ended up by the edge of the forest. Stepping out of the trees, he approached a rather large pond with mountains in the background, the light from the setting sun dyeing everything orange.

                Eiliandir followed the edge of the pond, momentarily surprised when he came across a tanned body with large green wings sitting by the pond a few meters from where he was standing, eyes focused over the water’s surface. He really was here. Stepping away from the trees, he slowly approached the sitting figure. He was going to explain the real reason as to why he was here, but first, he needed to know _why_ he had helped him that day.

                “Dragon,” he called, “Why did you not attack me while I was trapped? Why did you help me?”

                Silence.

                “I was feeling generous,” he replied nonchalantly.

                His words struck a chord in his chest. Frustration filling his being, the elf puffed out his cheeks. That could _not_ be the actual reason, he thought, there was no way! The freckled boy walked in front of the dragon, dropped to his knees and quickly grabbed the man’s scaly hand and placed the circlet on his palm.

                “M-My name is Eiliandir,” he introduced, voice slightly shaky and keeping his head down, “This is but a small token of my gratitude for rescuing me. I am in your debt.”

                He had spoken so quickly that he wasn’t even sure if the man understood a word that he had said.

                “What could a child possibly do for me?” he teased, odd accent just as thick as before.

                _‘The nerve of this dragon!’_

                What he didn’t have in maliciousness, he certainly made up for in sass. The boy’s cheeks reddened in anger.

                “Child?! Do you jest?!” the elf exclaimed as he looked up, “I am nearing my one-hundredth summer!”

                One-hundred was considered the mature age for an elf. He was almost there! He was _not_ a child! The dragon examined the boy’s face, his own showed that he was in thought but his eyes shown an odd emotion that the elf could not name. He was starting to become self-conscious when the dragon showed no signs of stopping his gaze.

                “I am over twice your age, you are still a child,” he reiterated, a teasing smirk on his lips, “But, I suppose that there is no harm in providing my name since you have already given yours. ‘Tis Adros.”

                The unease melted away as a small smile graced his lips. Even though this dragon… Adros, was a bit of a jerk, he didn’t seem all that bad… so far.

                “Thank you, Adros. Will you be here tomorrow as well?” receiving a nod, he told the blonde that he would see him then as he stood, “Nigh is nigh, I must return to my village. May you rest well.”

                The elf returned home feeling an odd mixture of elation and uneasiness. When he arrived, his cousin, Echiel had asked him how ‘his savior’, as she put it, liked the gift. He wasn’t quite sure if the blonde liked the circlet or not since he had left so quickly. He told her that he would most likely know by tomorrow.

                The rest of the day had passed quickly and uneventfully just as any other normal day. Grateful to the sun’s departure, he laid down to sleep the night away.

 

 

 

                Eiliandir’s eyes opened to almost complete darkness as very little light was coming from the sun that was still below the horizon. It was once again his turn to help with breakfast. Thankfully, he only needed to go to the garden and gather herbs, vegetables, etc. as someone else was hunting for meat. Nonetheless, he didn’t want to get up. Some of the elves had seen that he was feeling much better and placed him back in the roster for food duty, but only doing small things since his injury would not allow hunting. Sitting upright, the boy yawed and stretched his spine. He hunched forward and closed his eyes as he allowed them to rest for a few moments more. Almost falling back asleep, he decided that it would be best to get up and ready.

                After quietly finishing his morning routine –he didn’t want to wake his mother –he exited his hut with a basket and headed north towards the garden. Their garden was large as it had to feed a lot of people. Yesterday night he had spoken with the elf in charge of today’s hunting as he was told that they were going to try and catch a bird of some sort, perhaps a few pheasants. With that in mind he picked some roots, bulbs, tubers, and herbs. It didn’t take him very long to gather everything even though the garden was large. He had been there enough to know where everything was.

                Once the sun was just above the horizon, the freckled boy returned to the village. The person whose job it was to cook the meals thanked him as they took the basket just as the hunter returned with the game they promised. Not long after, the food was finished and everyone was awake and starting to prepare their workstations.

                Once everyone had eaten, Methendis approached her son who about to hang out with his friends.

                “For what reason do you still remain here?” she asked, “You should be with your debtor!”

                “But it is still fairly early mother!”

                He wasn’t planning on going down to the lake until at least midday. Knowing how the conversation would’ve went, she dragged the boy into the woods and pointed away from the village. She threatened that if he didn’t leave or if she or anyone else caught him in the area that he wouldn’t be fed tonight. Eiliandir loved food, she knew that very much. This was an actual threat that she has kept every time that it was made. Sighing, he caved and walked towards the lake. The small amount of giddiness that he had felt yesterday was now completely covered by irritation and unshakable apprehension. The latter of the feelings confused the boy however as the blonde had proved on two separate occasions that he was practically harmless. Why did he feel this way?

                Thinking back, one circumstance on non-hostility was when he had first met the dragon. His kind –the green ones –could breathe deadly chlorine gas… he could’ve very easily killed him back then. And it’s not like he couldn’t do it since the lower half of his hair was green-stained which was proof that he could. It truly puzzled him when he tried to figure out what the dragon was thinking.

                Eiliandir froze. He had made it to the edge of the forest just before the lake, but something wasn’t right. He could see Adros, but it seemed as if he were walking to someone. Peering around a tree, his heart nearly stopped. He was talking to a red dragon! Red dragons were notoriously short-tempered and destructive as their fire-breath could wreak havoc on anything and everything. The dragon’s long orange hair blew in the gentle winds, angry eyes red as blood, pupils a dark yellow like the dragon next to him. The ridges under his eyes only served to further make him look intimidating. Large horns on his forehead curved around and behind his head and his skin was darker than Adros’, though not by much. His reddish wings had a purple hue to them but they were blackened by the tops, almost as if they had gotten too close to his flames. This dragon was slightly taller than Adros and his red scales were nearly in the same places but he also had some on the sides of his arms.

                This man gave off terrifying vibes, enough to freeze the elven boy in place. When the red eyes looked in his direction, his breath hitched. His eyes scanned the inside of the woods in an attempt to see if anything was there. Thank goodness he couldn’t see him. Somehow, Adros had managed to regain the red dragon’s attention, drawing him away from the elf’s location. It took every ounce of his energy to keep his knees from giving out as they were weak from the intense fear that he was feeling. He didn’t want to make any noises.

                After what seemed like an eternity, the red dragon flapped his large wings and flew away toward the mountains. No longer fearing for his life, Eiliandir let out a shaky breath and leaned against a tree to keep himself up. The blonde looked into the dense forest, waiting for the boy to emerge.

                “He has been gone for some time now. What might you be doing in there?” he asked before smirking, “Did you soil yourself?”

                Hearing his taunt snapped him out of his fear-driven stupor.

                “No I did not!” exclaimed the elven boy as he pushed against the tree to stand back on his feet.

                He peaked his head out from the edge of the woods, just to make sure that it was indeed just the green dragon. Satisfied, he approached the man. Now that the two were standing side by side, he was amazed at how tall the blonde was (or perhaps he’s just short?). The elf’s head stopped just at the man’s chin.

                “Who _was_ that dragon?” Eiliandir asked shakily, “The venomous aura that he was emitting was tremendous! I was frightened as stiff as a board!”

                Adros sighed. He looked as if he didn’t want to talk about him.

                “’Twas my elder brother,” he answered and paused, “’Twould be wise to never cross paths with him.”

                “I would never plan on doing such a thing! I am certain that he would kill me without hesitation.”

                Taking a calming breath, he looked back up at the dragon’s face and noticed something on his forehead. He was wearing the circlet! Even though it was crudely made, he might have liked it. Either that or he’s wearing it out of obligation. The freckled boy was going to ask him about it but before he could open his mouth, the blonde turned around, tail swishing behind him, and began to walk away. Not wanting to be left alone, he quickly followed after the taller male. Not a word was said as the two walked along the edge of the lake. It didn’t take very long for the two to reach a cliff that jutted out over the lake. Adros sat down, leaving enough space for the elf, but he didn’t want to sit down. He wanted to go home already but he _had_ to stay here, at least until the sun set or if he was needed.

                “Adros, is there…“ he trailed, the dragon’s name still feeling foreign to his tongue.

                Eiliandir sighed, giving up on the thought of asking if there was anything he could do for him and sat down beside the older man. At least the view was nice. The cliff was high enough to make out things farther in the distance than if you were by the lakebed. The mountains that always looked to be an unnatural light-lavender seemed to be only somewhat taller than what they normally look. The sun was peaking behind the clouds overhead, birds flying through the sky without a single care in the world. Beings with wings were lucky. Looking at the winged man beside him, he asked what it was like to fly.

                “To be able to go anywhere in the world whenever you want… without any restrictions… it sounds truly wonderful,” said the elf.

                Adros did not answer right away.

                “Sometimes, having wings is a burden.” he replied, “They can be fragile, they are large and often get in the way. Any activity that involves laying down on your back is extremely uncomfortable.”

                Eiliandir was surprised to get an actual answer out of the man as all that he’d gotten in reply before was silence.

                “But dragons are well versed in the art of magic are they not? Can you not just make them go away or make them smaller?”

                “How do you think that most dragons take the form two-legged creatures? Yes, some of us _can_ make ourselves look like any other being, but many prefer the hybrid form because of the smaller stature or cannot simplify themselves any more than the hybrid.”

                “Is that so? Does that mean that you are in actuality much larger than you are now?”

                Adros nodded his head.

                “We dragons are very large, so large in fact that it is not entirely logical to keep a size so massive.”

                The elf was intrigued by the conversation since it was the longest that they’ve ever had, but didn’t know how to go about continuing it. Eventually, he chose to end it. Leaning back onto his hands, he was startled to feel something soft tickling his hand. He knew that what he had touched was _not_ grass. Looking at what he had grazed his hand upon, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just the blonde’s tail. The light green hair matched the small bits of hair on the sides of his lower arms and back of his calves. The hair actually started from the top of his head where it was dark green and ran down his back, quickly fading to light green, to the tip of his tail where it overflowed into a tuft. Overcome with the urge to touch it again, he reached down to stroke it but paused. What if he didn’t like his tail being touched?

                “Um… Adros?” he began, “Would you… would you mind if I touched your tail?”

                The man didn’t rely right away.

                “Do what you wish.”

                Smiling, Eiliandir brought his hand down upon the silky, soft hair. His breath left him in amazement at the sensation on his hands. He had never felt something like this before. If his tail felt this soft he wondered what those blonde locks felt like. Of course, he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries so he kept busy with the man’s tail. Running his fingers over scales felt almost as if he was touching a snake. The scales were so small that it was kind of hard to tell where they started or ended, though occasionally he would come across some so large that they seemed out of place. As his fingers wandered, he noticed that Adros’ wings would sometimes twitch ever so slightly. Not at all linking the twitching to the hands on his tail –which could’ve been a sensitive spot for the blonde –he continued his movements. While he was admiring the tuft of hair, his fingers brushed over something that felt different from everything else. Most of it was covered by the hair but from what he could see, they were large metal bands towards the tip of his tail; tail rings apparently. He was reluctant to leave the silky locks alone but if the dragon never had anything for him to do or help him with, then there would be plenty of other opportunities to do that.

                Looking at the tanned man, he supposed that he truly was fairly harmless. Smiling to himself, he supposed that he had gotten his wish for something to happen to his boring life.

                He could get used to this.

               

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

                It had been about a month since that fateful encounter and every single day since then had been spent in the company of the dragon. His mother was curious as he hadn’t paid off the debt that he owed and often offered to have him stay home for the day. Unfortunately, he discovered that his time with the blonde was more entertaining than his village. The elven villagers had begun to ask him about his ‘savior’, questioning as to why he had never brought him over. He had always managed to change the conversation or make up some excuse but one day he feared that he wouldn’t be able to weasel out of it.

                Speaking of the dragon, even though the man was cold and cheeky, it was just a front. Eiliandir still couldn’t believe it when his actual personality started to show, but Adros was actually a very loving person, though was still quite sassy. There wasn’t enough sass in the world to match him. Sometimes, the elven boy thought that he was only like that, odd accent thick in all of its glory, to tease him. It was during those moments that the freckled elf’s heart would quicken, face flushing nearly as pink as his eyes in either anger or embarrassment. When Eiliandir complained to Nestor about the incessant teasing and how he would react, the doctor just laughed at him, reminiscing about being young. When the boy asked what he had meant, the man replied with ‘you’ll figure it out’.

                It wasn’t until a few days later that the silver-haired boy had a dream about him and the dragon. In it, everything seemed fairly normal; they were walking about the lakeside, enjoying the warm weather and the setting sun as they talked about random things. The two looked at each other and smiled before slowly leaning towards each other, lips brushing against-

                He awoke with a start. Sitting up still half-asleep, he stared blankly at the wall.

                “What was that about?” questioned the elf as he yawned.

                His eyes widened, a gasp escaping his mouth.

                “ _No_ … am I… _taken_ with Adros?!” he thought aloud, running his hands through his hair in distress.

                Remembering that he was in his hut, he looked over to his mother’s bed to make sure that she didn’t hear what he had just said but was confused when he didn’t see her. What time was it? He looked at the position of the light that shined through the window.

                “Oh no! Not again!”

                He had overslept. It wasn’t his turn to help with anything, which he was grateful for but if there was one thing that Eiliandir loved more than life itself, it was food. Throwing his blanket off of him, he quickly put on his clothes and fixed his hair. He left his hut hopping on one foot as he tried to put his shoe on. He passed by some of the other villagers and children on his way to the tables, all of them having a satisfied look on their faces. He really hoped that there was still some food left.

                “Oh! Eiliandir! Good morning!” he heard.

                “Good morrow Habadon!” greeted the boy as he stopped.

                The long dark-haired man approached him with a small clay pot, a wooden plug shoved in the opening.

                “I had taken notice that you were not at the meal and the supply of food was becoming low. The children had the most veracious of appetites today. I decided to be kind and save some and I was just on my way to deliver this to you. ’Twas rabbit stew over barley today,” he explained, handing over the container and a utensil to eat.

                “Thank you very much! I do not know what I would do without you Habadon,” thanked Eiliandir.

                “It is no problem young one, but do try to wake up in a timely manner.”

                The man moved to leave but stopped.

                “Oh, I nearly forgot. Now that it is becoming warmer, I am going to start teaching the children again. I know how much you enjoy my lessons and so you are welcome to join me at any point in time.”

                “I most certainly will! Thank you!”

                The teacher smiled, gray-lavender eyes closed, before leaving the boy to his devices. Eiliandir looked at the pot in his hands. If he left now, he would still be on time to meet the dragon by the lake. Ready to leave, he began his short journey into the forest. During his walk, the small whiffs that he would occasionally get from the pot were tempting him to remove the wooden plug and eat the stew on the spot but the elf was determined to wait. Finally arriving at the other side of the forest, he looked around but saw no sign of the dragon. Calling the blonde’s name, he stood and waited. The elven boy had learned that Adros had exceptional hearing (though, sometimes the man just didn’t listen), therefore if he ever arrived and he wasn’t within eyesight, all he had to do was call.

It didn’t take long for Adros to appear behind him but the dragon didn’t want the elf to notice him. No, he had something else in mind. The taller man silently walked up to the boy, bent over, and blew into his ear. Startled, the silver-haired elf jumped and turned around. The sight of the boy’s blushing face with a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and surprise written on it, a hand pressed against the offended ear, made the dragon chuckle.

                “Ha ha, _very **funny**_ Adros,” spat the freckled boy.

                “Forgive me but I just could not resist the temptation.” the blonde apologized, still chuckling.

                Eyes narrowing in mock-anger, Eiliandir walked away from the taller man and made his way to their usual spot on the jutting out cliff. They would usually come over a little later but he was hungry and really wanted to eat the stew before it got too cold. Plopping down onto the grass with a huff, he pulled the wooden plug out of the pot and began to eat the stew with the utensil he was given.

                “What do you have there?” Adros asked curiously as he approached him and sat down next to the elf.

                “I had woken up late and a friend of mine was kind enough to save some of this morning’s meal for me,” Eiliandir explained, “Would you like some?”

                The shorter boy held out the clay pot and the blonde almost instantly recoiled. Obviously noticing the strange behavior, the boy pulled his arm back.

                “’Tis not as if there is any sort of poison mixed with the stew,” he mumbled. His face turned pale, “Unless there is and I just ate it.”

                “No… there is no poison…,” the dragon trailed.

                The elf cocked his head to the side as he waited for an answer. The blonde looked like he was going to vomit but continued.

                “The smell of meat makes me nauseous,” he admitted, “I cannot put up with its stench nor can I eat it.”

                Eiliandir was at a loss for words. A dragon that couldn’t eat meat? The man before him was just a basket of surprises.

                “S-Should I move away from you so as to not make you feel sick?”

                “No, as long as you keep it away from me I should be fine,” informed Adros, a strained smile on his face, “Thank you.”

                “Thank you? What for?” he asked, putting another spoonful of stew into his mouth, “If it is for not doing what others may have done when they heard your confession then there is no reason to thank me,” he looked into his pot of half-eaten food, “What you eat does not define who you are.”

                Adros, who was shocked by his words, couldn’t really form words and instead, rubbed his hand through the elf’s silver locks, a soft smile on his features.

                As Eiliandir finished his breakfast, he thought back to when they had first met. The elf had always been suspicious of the answer that the dragon had given him when he asked why he helped him. Now that he knew that the blonde didn’t like meat, his doubt was waning.

                The two spent the majority of the day sitting down by the lake, too lazy to get up and walk around. Eiliandir would have to go home soon since the sun was setting.

                “Do you remember when you asked me what it was like to fly?” asked Adros.

                The elf nodded his head.

                “Would you care to find out before you leave?”

                Confused, the boy didn’t reply right away but once he understood what he was implying, he voiced his mind.

                “Can your wings even support the weight of both of us?”

                “I do believe that they can. Why do you ask, are you frightened?” he sneered.

                He could tell that the elf wanted to know but was holding himself back.

                “N-No!” stammered the freckled boy, “Of course I am not frightened!”

                The thought of leaving the safety of the ground made him nervous. What made his heartbeat quicken was the thought of touching the dragon in any sort of way in order to do anything.

                “Do not fret. I am certain that you can straddle my back without interfering with my wings. From there I can hold onto your legs so that if your grip becomes loose you will not fall.”

                Whining under his breath, he walked closer to the taller male. He was fairly curious to know what it was like to be so high in the air. The dragon got down on one knee with his back to the elf, signaling that it was ok to get on. Once he was on the man’s back, he spread his wings to keep them from getting caught as the elf wrapped his legs and arms around him. He asked if the smaller boy was ready and once he had gotten the ‘ok’, he grabbed onto the legs around his waist and used his legs to launch them into the air. The quick movement startled the elf and in response clamped his limps tighter around the dragon and buried his face in his back. Immediately flapping his wings to stay in the air, he flew to a higher altitude before retaining a steady height.

                “Sorry, did I startle you?” he laughed.           

                Eiliandir didn’t reply as he was trying not to think of the fact that they were incredibly high off of the ground. Not only that but he was terrified of falling since he was practically parallel to the ground.

                “Whenever you wish to remove your face from my back, the view up here is quite amazing to see,” he coaxed.

                Gaining a bit of courage from his words, he peaked out from where his face was buried and looked out unto the horizon. Needless to say, the elf was flabbergasted. The sun was low to the horizon, reflecting off of the pond which he could actually see the entirety of. The sky was a mix of reds, oranges, and yellows giving a perfect contrast to the seemingly lavender colored mountains in the distance. Speaking of the mountains, they were so high that he could almost see behind the large piles of rock. Whatever was behind it was much lower than the level of the pond. Adros was right, that really was a sight to behold. Feeling the elven boy begin to relax, he flew around the surrounding area. He didn’t want to go too far but he also wanted to show him what he saw on a daily basis.

                “Are you ready to return to the ground?” the dragon asked as he looked behind him at the elf.

                Their faces were so close. It took everything in the silver-haired boy’s power not to reach over and kiss him.

                “Yes. Thank you for bringing me up here.”

                Landing by their usual spot, the dragon let the boy down. Grabbing the pot off of the ground, he looked at the blonde with a conflicted look. Even though he had just discovered his feelings today, he had felt this way for a while. He so desperately wanted to touch him in a way that friends shouldn’t.

                “I have noticed that you have been giving me that look since we had sat down earlier. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

                “No! What made you think that?” he panicked.

                He didn’t realize that he had been doing as the dragon had said. This was bad.

                “Are you certa-

                “Yes! There is nothing that I want to say to you!”

                The blonde flinched at the tone and volume of his words. Feeling instant regret for his actions, the boy sighed.

                “Forgive me. I did not mean to shout… I just..,” the elf trailed, “I am going home.”

                Without saying goodbye, the elf walked past the dragon, leaving behind a confused and dejected blonde. He slowly made his way back to his village.

                _‘Stupid. Now he most likely thinks that this is his fault,’_ he sighed.

                Why had he even yelled in the first place? He could’ve calmly replied that there was really nothing that he wanted to say (because it wasn’t verbal but _physical_ things in the first place) and excused himself for the night.

                A rustling in the bushes snapped him out of his thoughts. Something was coming. Reaching for the hunting knife that was usually kept on his hip, he broke into a panicked sweat when he realized that he had left it at his hut. Before the thought to run away had popped into his head, the thing that had been making its way through the brush walked out. It was a fox, a small cloth wrapped around its neck.

                “Buteo!” Eiliandir exclaimed.

                The fox’s ears perked to the name. The elf had met the fox when it was still a kit. The poor thing had been injured when it fell off of a cliff and into a river. Doing the most logical thing, the elf had taken it home and nursed it back to health. His mother was none too pleased when he brought back the soaked fox but she eventually warmed up to the animal. In the end, it was her who had given the fox the name Buteo. Crouching down to properly greet the animal, the fox trotted over and climbed onto his lap.

                “I have not seen you for some time,” he smiled as he pat the animal’s head, “How have you fared little one?”

                Not expecting an answer, he continued to speak.

                “I have made a mistake and hurt someone dear to me.”

                Sensing how troubled he was, Buteo gently head-butted the elf, keeping her head there. Smiling sadly, he lightly pushed back.

                “Thank you my friend.”

                The fox pulled back and looked behind it. Something had gotten her attention.

                “You do not need to stay here for my sake. Go on,” he encouraged softly.

                Giving the elven boy one last look, she stepped off of the boy and ran into the woods. Eiliandir waved goodbye as he stood up. Sighing, he returned to the village with newly-found vigor.

                Tomorrow, he had to fix this.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

                As soon as breakfast was shoved down the elf’s throat, Eiliandir rushed out of the village. He didn’t want to waste any time. Reaching the edge of the woods in record time, he jumped out without a second thought. Seeing someone, the freckled boy opened his mouth to speak but his blood ran cold when instead of green, he saw red. It was Adros’ brother and the dragon noticed him as well.

                “Eh?” he mumbled, “Well look at what we ‘ave ‘ere.”

                His thick accented, slightly deep, penetrating voice rang in his ears. The orange haired man began to walk towards the elf. He needed to get away, back to the safety of the thicket behind him but his body refused to listen to any commands that he had given it.

                “What are ye doin’ so far from yer ‘ome elf?”

                Once the red-scaled man had gotten too close to him, he had finally convinced his body to move. Unfortunately, he had backed up right into a tree. He was screaming at his body to run but all that came about was panicked trembles.

                “Do ye not know that it is treacherous out ‘ere in the wilderness? Full of dangerous creatures?” he asked as he slammed his fist against the tree near the freckled boy’s head, cracking the bark, “Such as me?”

                 Trembling in horror, he watched as the taller man became angrier with each passing second. Was something wrong? Was he supposed to say something? Did he want him to scream? Deciding to do the former, he took a breath.

                “I… I cannot leave b-because I have bus-business with someone h-here,” the elf stumbled.       

                “So it speaks. That is good. ‘ad ye been a mute I would ‘ave considered killin’ ye,” the dragon admitted, backing up from the boy slightly, “Then again, I might still do so if I feel like doin’ it.”

                The elf paled. How ruthless! He was aware that red dragons were barbaric but to scare someone half to death and then kill them was just ridiculous! This man was more like an animal than anything. He knew that he needed to keep this man busy at least until Adros appeared. But if he didn’t…

                 “Y-You… you are Adros’ brother correct?”

                The orange-haired man lifted his head and looked down upon the boy, eyes having an irritated look to them. Did he say something wrong?

                “I am well aware that ye are familiar with me brother. ‘e ‘as ‘ad an odd scent on ‘im as of late and I could smell ‘im on ye before ye ‘ad exited the forest. ‘onestly, the thought of it makes me sick,” he admitted, words angry. Waves of heat were escaping his mouth, “A dragon, not just any dragon but a _green_ dragon, ones that _enjoy_ eatin’ elves, spendin’ time with someone of yer kind? _An elf?!_ ”

                At his final word, fire erupted from his mouth like a spark in gasoline. The sudden arrival of flames startled the silver-haired boy and as a result his head banged against the tree behind him. The dragon, as maniacal as he was, had apparently found joy in his pain. Leaning forward into the elf’s face, he smiled wickedly.

                “Did I give ye a fright with me flames?” he asked cockily, “Shall I make ye more acquainted with them?”

                Fire began to emit from the orange-haired man’ lips. If Eiliandir didn’t leave immediately, he would either be badly burned or worse, dead. The man had his arms by his head, stopping any movement. He fidgeted against the tree, grabbing at it for purchase as he tried to figure out a way out. His knees were dangerously close to giving out. The flames started to lick at his face. He wasn’t going to make it. Without warning, the dragon’s head shot backwards as he made a pained noise. The abrupt movement made the elf jump in surprise.

                 “Ow ow ow! Release yer hold of me ‘air Adros!” he demanded.

                Ears perking to the blonde’s name, the boy looked behind the man and halted. Adros’ eyes were filled with such an intense malice on an otherwise calm face that at that moment, he was more afraid of him than his short-tempered brother.

                “You must not care for your life Xilon. I specifically recall forbidding any contact with that elf.”

                “I could not ‘elp but to be curious. Besides, it was worth it to see the boy nearly soil ‘imself in fear.”

                The blonde’s eyes narrowed just before he pulled his brother away from the elven boy and towards the lake. He stood between the two, turning his back to the elf as he spoke.

                “You have all but five seconds to leave before I end your life,” he threatened, venom dripping from his words. 

Pushing the subject further, Xilon spoke.

                “Perhaps I should indulge in this activity more often if I will be able to see ye like this.”

                The older brother put his hands up in defense as Adros took an angered deep breath. The elf nearly missed it, but when the blonde exhaled, the air seemed to gain a greenish hue for a moment. He had ever seen the man expel the chlorine gas before. From that, he knew that the man was absolutely livid. Finally finished messing with his brother, the red dragon flew away. Once he was a good distance away, Adros let out a long, deep sigh. When he turned to face the elf, the boy was surprised by the fact that the anger in his eyes was almost completely melted away.

                “Are you alright Eiliandir? Did he hurt you?” he asked worriedly as he approached the smaller boy.

                “N-No… I am fine. I banged my head when he scared me however,” he replied as he stepped away from the tree, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head, “To be honest, I was fearful of your brother, but when I had seen the fierce anger in your eyes… for a moment… I was terror-stricken. I have never seen you so enraged before.”

                “I apologize,” he paused, “However, as I had said, I had indeed told him during a prior occasion that he was _not_ to make contact with you. I have come to enjoy our time together,” Adros explained, a small smile appeared on his lips, “You are very precious to me.”

                His sincere words made all of the blood rush to Eiliandir’s cheeks. He was precious to him? Did he like the elf as well? Or did he just mean that he was a precious friend? He wished that he could tell the dragon about his feelings but he was afraid of ruining what they had if he didn’t feel the same way. Feeling a little dismal from his thoughts, he gave the taller man a smile, though he couldn’t hide the sadness reflecting in his eyes. Of course, the blonde picked up on it immediately.

                Adros opened his arms and held them out slightly. Before Eiliandir could ask as to why he had done so, he replied with ‘he thought that the elf was in need of an embrace’. Unbeknownst to him, he was the last person that he wanted a hug from. Not wanting to offend the dragon, he accepted it. He had to admit, he gave good hugs.

                “Better?” the taller man asked as he loosened his grip.

                Shyly nodding his head, the elf refused to look upwards at the taller man’s face as he played with his silver locks. Should he see the raging blush on his face, he might question it. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. The freckled boy suggested that they go and do stuff to get their minds off of what had happened. Agreeing, they both began to walk around, eventually settling at their usual spot above the lake. The two sat down in a comfortable silence. Before long, Eiliandir began to nod off.

                “Hei,” Adros called, “if you are tired then you should return home.”

                “No… ‘tis alright. I just need to rest my eyes for a while,” he yawned, leaning on the dragon’s shoulder.

                Within seconds, the elf had fallen asleep. Ever since the first dream that he had with the blonde, his dreams have been continuations. This one was different however as it went from simple touches and kisses to things that children should not see. Outside of his dreams, the dragon had noticed that it was beginning to get dark and decided to wake the elven boy so he could go home. When he opened his eyes, still in a sleep-driven haze and looked up at the dragon, the two locked gazes. Their faces were so close and since the elf was still half asleep, he began to close the distance between them. Alarmed by the movement, the blonde placed his scaly hand over the boy’s mouth, snapping him out of his daze.

                “O-Oh my! I-I am so sorry Adros! I… I-I have no idea as to what came over me!” he exclaimed as he crawled away backwards.

                He messed up. Now he knew about his feelings for him. Everything was ruined. A single tear fell from the elf’s eye. The dragon reached out to wipe it away but only managed to brush against his cheek before the boy stood to run.

                “Eiliandir wait!” he called, quickly standing and grabbing a hold of the elf’s wrist.

                He looked behind him, tears streaming down his face. The blonde looked like he was about to say something but the sight of him crying had surprised him enough to loosen his grip. Taking the opportunity, he pulled his wrist from the dragon’s grasp and ran into the forest.

                He had ruined everything.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

                Eiliandir couldn’t sleep as the events of the previous day kept him awake. He couldn’t forget the troubled look on the dragon’s face when he had awoken from the sleep-driven daze. He thought that the blonde must’ve hated him, never wanting to see him again.

                _‘This is my judgement,’_ he thought as he sighed.

                Sitting up from his mat, he scratched his head and recoiled at the unpleasant feeling of his hair. He needed a bath. Putting on his clothes, he grabbed a basket containing a small square of pumice and a vial of soap. The soap was actually various vegetable oils and small bits of animal fat but he liked to put lemon juice and herbs to help with the smell that it usually left him with. Speaking of cleaning, the elf figured that he might as well wash his clothing since it was so early.

                It was still fairly dark when he left his hut. Even the elves who had to hunt that morning were still asleep. Once he arrived at the river to the east of the village, he placed the basket by the river bank and after taking out the small mound of clothes from the top of it, removed his clothes. There was no chance of someone coming in this direction any time soon so he had no reason to take them off as he went in the water.

                Once all of his clothes were sufficiently cleaned to his preference and hung on a rope that was hung between two trees, Eiliandir slowly lowered himself into the cold water. The river wasn’t a very large one and it was only as deep as his chest towards the middle. Leaning against the muddy wall, the elven boy rested his head against the grass and closed his eyes before slowly opening them half-way. The stars were still out in the sky, not yet blocked out by the sun’s light. He remembered the times when he was younger, back when he used to have quite the temper. Maybe that’s the reason that he and Gorvon were so competitive. The boy recalled looking up at the vastness of the night sky and just how much looking at it would calm him. There was something about how big the sky was that seemed to humble him.

                Once the sun’s rays began to dampen the darkness, the elf reckoned that he had soaked long enough in the river. He sat on the grass, grabbed the soap from the basket and he lathered his frame and hair with the soap. Satisfied with the layer of cleaning product, he used the pumice stone to lightly scrub his body with it. Once he had thoroughly scrubbed himself, he lowered himself back into the water and rinsed all of the oils and dirt off of his body. By the time he had finished, the sun was nearly up and his clothes were dry.

                When he returned to the village he noticed that some of the villagers were already walking around, most notably his uncle Túon. Túon was his father’s brother, actually, he was his twin brother. Eiliandir had never met his father since he had died before he was born, but he was often told that if he ever wanted to see his old man, to look at his uncle.

                “Good morrow Eiliandir,” he greeted, “You are awake quite early today.”

                “Indeed, I was unable to sleep so I decided to bathe myself.”

                Reminded of the reason as to why he couldn’t sleep, his face fell slightly. He really didn’t want to think of it anymore. Maybe, he thought, if he distracted himself he would forget about it.

                “Are you off to the forge? Would you like some assistance?” asked the boy.

                “You are staying in the village today?” the blacksmith asked, surprised.

                “Ah… yes. He… is busy today,” Eiliandir lied.

                Túon’s blue eyes narrowed slightly. As his uncle, he knew when the boy lied but went along with it anyway.

                “Alright. I could always use an extra hand. Perhaps you could make something if you so wish.” he agreed, petting his nephew’s head.

                Eiliandir gasped in excitement.

                “Would you really let me work with such things?”

                “Yes. But I warn you, ‘tis a lot of hard work.”

                The boy returned to his hut to put his basket back before he followed the wavy light-black haired elf to his workstation, a bounce in his step. Once the two were there, the blacksmith started a fire in the forge and began to prep everything that he needed.

                “Today, one of the objects that I was planning to create was a karambit,” the older elf started, “Before you make anything I suggest that you watch me first. I do not think that you would remember how to do this from memory.”

His uncle chuckled. Eiliandir used to love watching him as he worked with the metal. He remembers telling the man that once he had turned a suitable age, he would be his apprentice. Those words were still true. Soon, he would be 100 and he couldn’t wait to work with the materials and shape them into whatever he wanted.

                Sitting down on a log by the forge, he watched as a piece of metal was grabbed at its end with a metal clamp, only the top half put into the fire. Once it was glowing orange, it was pulled out, placed onto an anvil, and banged on with a hammer. With each strike, the sound of metal clashing echoed in the air. As the man worked, he explained every step and utensil to the younger elf; for instance, ‘the point of heating the metal is to make it malleable enough to manipulate. When it is not hot enough, you cannot use it very well’. This process repeated a few times and eventually the metal had went from a bar to a flat, curved blade with a hole at the bottom of the hilt. The nearly finished blade was then heated once more and wrapped in a thick cloth to stop the blade from cooling too quickly. Wiping the sweat from his brow, another elf approached the two and told them that the breakfast was just about ready.

                Once they had finished their food and cleaned up they returned to the forge.

                “Are you prepared to make something?” when Eiliandir nodded excitedly he continued, “I was contemplating having you make a dowel knife. Do you think that you can handle it?”

                “Absolutely!”

                According to the wavy haired man, dowel knives were the easiest to make. He instructed his nephew as he made it. All he had to do was heat one end of a metal rod and flatten out the blade with a hammer. The boy quickly learned that metal was a lot harder to mold than he thought. He needed to put in a lot of strength in order to make the material budge. Oh was he going to be sore tomorrow. Once the general shape was made and cooled slightly, he had to grab the newly made blade with the clamp and heat the end of the handle. Hammering out a point at the end of it, the blacksmith showed him how to curve the handle just under where the blade would be. Flipping the metal once more, he was told to try and shape, round out, and taper the blade.

                Túon held a cooled section of the knife and inspected it.

                “Not bad. ‘Tis just a tad too thick, but still, not bad,” he praised, causing Eiliandir to smile, “Now, let us finish this.”

                “Yes sir!”

                Putting the blade back into the forge, they left it there until it was so hot that it glowed red. The blacksmith instructed him to put it in a container of knife oil but warned him that flames would erupt from the container because the knife was still so hot. He then explained that now the blade was now very hard but at the same time, very brittle. He needed to temper the blade _gently_ –he strongly emphasized the word ‘gently’ –by heating it again and then put it back in the oil. Once it was out, all he had to do was use a file to shape the sharpest point of the blade. Giving the blade one final look, he nodded his head.

                “Great work! You have done much better than I had anticipated. I look forward to the day when you are a full-fledged blacksmith,” his uncle complimented.

                He had did it… he had actually made something, and practically on his own. His uncle had only given him the steps but never actually showed him what to do.

                _‘I cannot wait until I can tell Adros-‘_

He had completely forgotten about what had happened. Why did he have to mess up his progress with thoughts like that? Sighing, he dropped his gaze to the ground.

                “What is of the matter Eiliandir?”

                “I… I would rather not speak of it.”

                “Are you certain? You have been down since you returned yesterday. I thought a distraction might have sufficed, but I suppose not.”

                The elven boy was silent. He honestly didn’t want to talk about him and Adros, but he could really use some advice.

                “Well… the man who I see every day, I had done something and I believe that I have made him feel very uncomfortable. I fear he might even detest me,” He explained, playing with his hands nervously.

                Túon sat down on the log and patted the spot next to him, motioning for the boy to sit next to him.

                “Let us take a break,” he smiled as his nephew sat beside him, “I may not know the entirety of the situation but I can give you this piece of advice; apologize to him. Explain that you did not mean to offend him with whatever it was that you had done. If he does not express interest in your apology then try to see if you can do something to prove that you are truly sorry. If at that point he still wishes to have nothing to do with you, then I do believe that it would be in your best interest to part ways.”

                His words comforted yet scared the elven boy. What if Adros was forgiving and wanted to continue to be friends, but then what if he was disgusted with him and his feelings and rejected him altogether?

                “I realize that my advice may not have been the best, maybe even a little harsh, but it is the truth. You have an equal chance of him forgiving you or not at all. I do not wish to lead you astray with false hope.”

                “I understand your intentions. Thank you uncle,” he smiled sadly.

                “’Tis just Túon, you are making me feel old calling me uncle! But, I will always be there for you if you need an open ear,” he comforted, patting the young boy’s head, “The sun is already on its way down. We made good time today.”

                Túon stood up and handed him the dowel knife. He claimed that since the elf had made it, he should keep it. Thanking the older man, he walked to his hut and placed the knife on the wall with the rest of his weapons and tools. There was still some daylight left. It had been a while since he had properly spoken to his friends. He thought about going back to the lake tomorrow but then decided against it immediately after the thought was in his head. He wasn’t going to rush this; he wanted to give the dragon time to himself before he approached him.

                Hopefully, he could fix this.

               


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's been about a month since I've updated and I'm sorry! I've been so busy with finishing a drawing challenge and proofreading the finished chapters that I forgot to post anything.

           

               

                After talking to Túon the day before, Eiliandir had thought that he had the courage to go and speak to Adros. He stood by the edge of the forest staring up at the canopy. He was scared. He had only just recently noticed the feelings that he had for the dragon. He was ok with the man not accepting them, people are allowed to like whoever that want. He was afraid of losing a friend because of his feelings. Sighing, he turned around and walked to the north of his village. Just outside of it was a tree; a very large tree. It was larger than the surrounding forest, prompting some of the founding villagers to believe that this tree was sacred, touched by the gods as a way to communicate. It was common for people to come and pray to it or sit under the canopy as they believed it to give them knowledge or understanding. Eiliandir didn’t exactly believe in that kind of stuff, but today… he felt as if he had to. If he needed to ‘pray to the gods’ in order to calm him nerves then so be it.

                The elven boy had been there when he was younger as his mother would drag him with her when she visited. He hadn’t been in nearly 50 years but it wasn’t hard to locate the tree since it was so wide. Its orange-like bark was smooth, low hanging branches had letters attached to them as his people often tied their wishes to them. Around the trunk about eye level to him was a rope dyed in multiple different colors.

                “Hello… um, tree.” he greeted awkwardly, placing a hand on the smooth bark, “I understand that I do not… well… actually… I have never came to you for help… but I do currently request your assistance. I have made a grave error. I am not asking for you to remedy my mistake, but I ask for you to give me the courage to try and fix it.”

                Removing his hand from the tree, he sighed. He hoped that that would help.

                “Eiliandir?” he heard.

                He kept his head raised towards the tree canopy.

                “Hello Habadon.”

                “’Tis unusual to see you here. Is everything alright?”

                He nodded his head. His voice was a little shaky from the small tears that were threatening to show themselves. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the long haired teacher, a large, fake smile on his face.

                “Everything is fine, I was confused about a personal matter and so I came here for guidance.”

                “I do hope everything works out for you young one.”

                Habadon clasped his hands together and closed his eyes as he prayed to the tree. He was one of the many who came daily to pray. For a brief moment, he wondered if the reason why he was having these issues was because he didn’t actually believe in the ‘gods’.  

                “Would you care to join me in my teachings Eiliandir?” the man asked, eyes still closed.

                Yet another distraction. Perfect. Agreeing to go with him, the two left the tree and headed back into the village. They arrived at the edge of the forest by the river where multiple rows of logs were located. This is where Habadon taught the younger elves but there was still some time left before they actually started to show up.

                “I have been meaning to ask you about any upcoming constellations.” said the silver-haired elf.

                “It would be difficult to teach you since it is still daylight.” he laughed, “But, I do think that I can manage.”

                Grabbing a stick off of the ground, he drew a 5 dots into the ground before connecting them. It looked like an n that someone decided to shove a pole into the curve.

                “What might that be? Is it a horse?” the boy thought out loud.

                “You are close. ‘Tis a buffalo.” explained Habadon, “Long ago, before the gods were appointed as such, one of them had raised a buffalo and named Amaranth. When the god gained their powers and could no longer live on this planet, they took Amaranth with them and placed the buffalo among the stars so that it may be closer to them.”

                “So… they killed their pet? That was quite selfish of them.”

                The sounds of children laughing as they approached made their conversation stop. Smiling at the small elves as they took their seat, Eiliandir followed suit and sat in the very back. It didn’t take very long for everyone to be present, allowing the gray-lavender eyed man to start. Since the elven children were over 60 years old, today’s lesson was about war that forced their parents or grandparents to flee to this village.

                About 100 years ago, they lived in an elven city called Erhoserine. In that city were two types of elves, Moon elves and Catena elves, which were a subspecies of Moon elves. Moon elves were typically pale with a light blue hue to their skin with black, blue, or silvery white hair while Catena elves had tanned skin and pure silver to white hair. Eiliandir himself was both, his mother was Catena and his father a Moon, but you wouldn’t be able to tell since he looks purely Catena.

                Saying that the two elven races didn’t exactly get along was an understatement. The two were always at each other’s throats, killing each other, and other horrible things. Eventually, the conflicts had become so great that a war had broken out. The Catena elves had chosen immediately to surrender as the last thing that they wanted was a war but the Moon elves were so driven by their hatred that that they wanted nothing more than to wipe out their counterpart. Catena elves feared for their lives, never leaving their homes, hiding underground, anything that they could do to keep themselves away. It didn’t take long for the Catena’s numbers to plummet to near-extinction. Thankfully, with the help of some Moon elves who thought that their brethren’s actions were barbaric or were close friends to them helped them escape, some of them choosing to leave as well. After nearly a month of travel to ensure that they were far enough away, they settled at their current location at formed a village which they called ‘Ilyeththaes’. Thankfully, they still have comrades in the city and they meet with them every month to exchange materials. That would definitely explain how they managed to have blocks of metal and fabric.

                Habadon had went on to talk about other things like their ancient language but Eiliandir blanked it out. He couldn’t focus since his mind kept wandering to the dragon. Was he still over by the lake? How angry was he at him? Whenever such thoughts would drift into his mind, he would try to push them away but they’d just come back twice as hard. What if he never forgave him? If that happened-

                “Eiliandir?”

                “Huh?” he said, snapping out of his thoughts.

                Habadon was crouched in front of him, a worried look on his face. Looking around, he noticed that everyone else had left, the sun already beginning to set. How long had he been lost in his thoughts?

                “You looked as if you were about to cry. Are you alright?”

                He _did_ want to cry, he _wanted_ to say ‘no’, but above all, he didn’t want to worry anyone with his problems.

                “I apologize, I was thinking about the war that we had that forced us to relocate.” he lied, “Mother always mentions every detail whenever she talks about it.”

                Habadon looked at the silver-haired elf with suspicion. A sigh escaped his lips.

                “I will not pry as to what really is of the matter but I do hope that whatever is plaguing you goes away.” the teacher spoke as he stood, “I do not like seeing you in such a state.”

                The long haired elf told him that dinner had just begun to get made and so they still had some time to spare. He then suggested that the boy lay down as it might help clear his head. Taking his advice, Eiliandir stood from the log and walked back to his hut.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

                The elf awoke to darkness. He had laid down just before dinner to try to clear his head; he must have fell asleep. The sun had went down quite some time ago and many elves had already gone to sleep. Walking out of his hut, he spotted many of the older elves by the bonfire enjoying some drinks. Not entirely in the mood to join them, he decided to take a walk. Using the moonlight, he made his way through the forest. Maybe, he thought, if he sat by the lake for a while, the calming sight would ease his frantic mind. Coming out by the water, his eyes widened in surprise. Adros was sitting by the lakebed; he was still there. Hearing him approach, the blonde looked behind him, face full of a mixture of shock and relief as he stood. The elf’s heartbeat quickened in nervousness as the two approached each other. He needed to apologize, there was no escaping it.

                “I had almost given up hope that you would return,” spoke the dragon, “’Tis good to see you again.”

                At first, the elf looked at the ground and didn’t reply. It was good to see him? Was he just saying that to make him feel better? He was having a hard time understanding the situation. The hands by his sides tightened into fists.

                “I am truly sorry about what happened the other day. I tried to kiss you without thinking of your feelings. That was a very insensitive and rude thing to do,” he apologized, “I understand if you are angry with me-

                “What made you believe that I would feel any ill feelings for you?” he asked, “I had only stopped your actions because you were half asleep. Had you been completely aware, I would not have done so.”

                Hearing his words, he looked up at the blonde’s face in surprise.

                “Would not have…?” he trailed, “You like me as well?”

                “To be honest, many years ago I had seen you by this lake and I may have fallen in love the moment I had laid my eyes on you. I had hoped that I would see you again and once we had talked, I knew that I was in love with you.” he replied, sliding his scaly hand onto the elf’s cheek, “I only acted in the way that I had back then because I did not wish to scare you away by being too forward.”

                A large smile spread across the elf’s face as he closed the gap between the two, hugging the dragon tightly. He was so happy he could cry. Adros placed his hands on Eiliandir’s face and angled him so that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

                “May I?”

                The boy shyly nodded his head. Their lips met for one kiss quickly followed by a longer one. It wasn’t anything special but he loved it either way. When they pulled apart, the elf’s eyes were glossed over, cheeks dusted pink, a trace of disappointment on his face. He wanted the kiss to last a little longer.

                “Do not give me that look,” Adros chuckled, sliding his hands down to the elf’s waist, “I have been holding back for a long while. If we go any longer, I may not be able to stop.”

                “That is alright. Do what you wish.”

                A conflicting look crossed the dragon’s face for a moment.

                “Tempting… but perhaps some other time.”

                The freckled elf frowned. Smirking, the dragon kissed him under the eye before peppering his face in small, quick kisses, earning giggles from the boy.

                “Alright, alright!” he laughed, “I understand!”

                Heeding his surrender, the dragon stopped his barrage of kisses. Adros opened his mouth to speak but then closed it when a yawn interrupted the elf’s laughter.

                “Tired?”

                Eiliandir nodded his head as he rubbed a small tear from his yawn with the pad of his hand.

                “I had laid down around sunset but fell asleep. I am usually in my bed at this time.”

                “Well then you should go to sleep,” Adros suggested.

                “But I do not want to, I want to stay with you!” the elf whined, drawling out his last word.

                 “Sleep is important.” informed the blonde, thumbing the boy’s chin, “I will be here tomorrow, you can spend time with me then. But for now, you should go to sleep, alright?”

                “ _Fine_ ,” he caved, whining tone still in his voice.

                “Would you like for me to bring you back?”

                Eiliandir thought about his proposal. Should they go together, he can go to bed faster. The quicker that he goes to sleep, the quicker he and the dragon can spend tomorrow together. Accepting his offer, the blonde decided that instead of putting the elf on his back, he would pick him up like a bride. Their new position not only startled the boy, but flustered him as well.

                “Why are you picking me up in such a manner?!” he asked.

                “’Tis a short flight. It should be easier this way. Does this bother you?”

                “N-No…. just… do not drop me.”

                “I can make no promises.”

                Before the elven boy could ask what he meant, the dragon began to flap his wings, lifting the two into the air. The trip was indeed short, cutting his normal 20 minute long walk into a few minute flight. Landing just outside the village with the help of the elf, Adros gently put down the silver haired boy.

                “Thank you for bringing me back.”

                “I could not have you walking back at this hour. I would have worried for the rest of the night.”

                “I will have you know that I was more than capable of returning on my own!” chuckled the elf.

                Grabbing the taller man’s shoulders, he used them as leverage to peck his new lover on the lips.

                “May you have a good night.”

                “You as well,” smiled the dragon.

                He watched as the dragon flew away, waving until he disappeared over the tree canopies. Returning to his hut, he walked in on his mother preparing to sleep. It wasn’t often that she was up later than he was but when she was, she was usually awake pretty late.

                “I was wondering as to where you had went to this late into the night. Did you go for a walk?” she asked but didn’t give him time to reply, “I would rest if I were you. Do not forget that it is your duty to go hunting on the morrow.”

                “ _Yes mother_.” the boy drawled.

 

 

 

                It had been three days since the two confessed to each other. Their relationship hadn’t changed much besides the physical contact, oh, and Adros’ teasing had gotten worse, though not by very much. Sometimes, Eiliandir wondered if the dragon just liked seeing him flustered because it certainly worked. There was this weird thing that Adros could do with his tongue, which was forked by the way, that both freaked out and fascinated him but he _hated_ when he did it. It reminded him of a snake. It was weird though. He didn’t entirely mind the teasing, as he could sometimes come up with a witty retort, but other times, he wished he would stop. But, it was during those times that the two would have their most intimate moments.

                 As the elven boy arrived at the lake, he walked towards the lakebed when he didn’t see the dragon. Whenever he arrived before the blonde, he would crouch by the water’s edge and watch the small fish swim around. It didn’t take long for him to be hugged from behind. The dragon seemed to enjoy sneaking up behind him. Chuckling, the elf looked at the taller man.

                “Good morrow to you as well Adros,” Eiliandir greeted, a chuckle still present in his voice, “Did your night go well?”

                “It did indeed, but it would have been better should you had been with me,” he replied, rubbing his cheek in the silver locks affectionately.

                Flustered, the elf’s cheeks tinged pink as his brain processed what he had meant. Unable to form a proper sentence, he began to stutter and stumble over an incoherent sentence. Snickering at the boy’s condition, he kissed the elven boy’s cheek under his ear.

                “You are too charming.”

                Forgetting that he was still crouched, when he attempted to turn around to face the dragon, he lost his balance. Before either of them could react, the elf was sitting chest deep in water. Eiliandir wasn’t exactly sure as to what had just happened but he did know that the blonde was failing at hiding his amusement behind a concerned look. Adros let out a small snort as he held out a hand.

                "Are you alright?” he asked, voice cracking as he tried to hold back his laughter.

                The boy pouted as he nodded, accepting the hand to be pulled out of the water. He was tempted to just go back to his village and forget that today had never even happened, but it was a nice day since summer was right around the corner and he would be missing out on time with his lover. Adros apologized for his actions since he knew that him falling into the lake was his fault as they walked along the water. Once the two made it to their usual spot and sat down, Eiliandir leaned on the dragon’s shoulder, the man’s arm on the ground by the elf’s hip opposite to him. It was times like this that conversation was unnecessary as silence spoke volumes. The two _would_ occasionally talk about things that came into their minds however.

                A small breeze flew by making the elf shiver slightly. It was a small shiver but the blonde felt it. Lifting one of his wings, he encircled it around the small boy, shielding him from any more wind. At the same time he also moved his hand from the ground to the elf’s hip and wrapped his tail around his torso, fluff of hair resting on his legs to help keep him warm. Though, the latter part came with an ulterior motive. If the dragon had any weaknesses, it was the elf touching his tail. His gentle caresses drove him absolutely insane with how fast they found their way to his most sensitive spots. As if on cue, slender and calloused hands began to fiddle with the locks of light green hair. Remembering something important, Eiliandir called his lovers name. When he received a noise of acknowledgement, he continued.

                “I had forgotten about this until earlier today as I’m not very good with following the days. Soon, I do believe that it is in about five or so days, I will have reached my 100th year,” he started, “’Tis a tradition to not stray from the village to prepare for the coming of age ceremony and it typically lasts for the entirety of the day.”

                “’Tis a shame that I cannot spend such an important time with you.”

                The two knew that if anyone (besides the few who he trusted) were to find out about their relationship, not only would it be considered treason against his village for ‘cohering with the enemy’, but it would wind up with either one or both of them dead.

                “If I may, I would like to give you your gift early.”

                Give him his gift early? He had just told him about it. How could he have possibly gotten him a gift? Curious, he looked up. As soon as the boy lifted his head to question the dragon, his lips were attacked by the blonde’s. Their lips danced together slowly as Adros placed his hand on the back of Eiliandir’s head and pulled their faces closer together. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Eiliandir put rested them on Adros' shoulders. The two had yet to share a kiss as heavy as that and it was starting to overwhelm him. The dragon didn’t want to stop there but small noises were escaping the boy’s mouth and if he kept hearing that, there was no telling what he would do. Pulling apart, they were both breathing heavily. Eiliandir, who was red cheeked and speechless, tried to figure out words to say.

                “… Wow… that… that was the finest gift that I have ever received.”

                “I am glad that you enjoyed it. I remained awake all throughout the night thinking of something that you might relish,” he joked.

                “Could we… maybe do that again at some point in time?”

                Adros chuckled at the boy’s shy nature.

                “We can kiss whenever you want.”

                “May we do it now?”

                “We may.”

                Connecting their lips once again, the elf knew that they definitely needed to do that more often.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

                Eiliandir awoke to the sound of someone calling his name. Just a little longer. That was all that he asked for. Hearing his name again, he groaned as he opened his eyes only to be immediately startled to see Methendis hovering over him.

                “Mother! Must you be so close to me?!” he asked as he quickly sat up.

                “ _Yes_!” she drawled, “If you are not dressed shortly then Camaenor will be cross!”

                Today, was the day that Eiliandir turned 100. He was finally considered to be an adult though to be honest, he didn’t feel any different. It was common for the coming of age ceremony to take place when the sun was at its highest but the person that the ceremony was for had to fast. Because of this, he decided to sleep in until just before he had to go. Jumping out of bed, he quickly put on the special outfit that had been prepared for him.

                When an elf reaches maturity, it was custom for them to wear either what their mother or their father wore during their ceremony. If there were multiple siblings of the same gender, the oldest would wear it and the youngest would have a new one prepared for them unless they chose to wear their other parent’s garb. Eiliandir’s father was the youngest between him and his twin brother Túon and so he got to have his own ceremonial garb. Unfortunately, nearly all of his father’s belongings had been destroyed either in the war or during transit to their new location but thankfully, both his mother and his uncle were able to have it recreated from memory. His garb was monochromatic; its long, baggy gray pants nearly dragged on the floor, long sleeved and mid-shin length tunic was a lighter gray with a thin robe the same color of the pants on top of it. It was all brought together with a thick silver sash around his waist to keep everything together. Underneath it all, he wore a pair of short shorts that he typically wore underneath his leggings. As he fixed his messy bedhead, his mother watched him with a saddened smile. He knew that his current outfit reminded her of his father. He supposed that he understood why she still got downtrodden whenever the man was mentioned. Giving his mother a quick hug, he ran out of his hut and nearly collided with the village head.

                “Ah, there you are,” said the long, black-haired elf, “I was beginning to think that you were not going to make it in time. I had come here to retrieve you but it seems that I was unneeded.”

                “My apologies Camaenor. My clothing was a little more difficult to put on than I had assumed,” he bowed.

                “No, no that is quite alright,” assured the head, near amber eyes twinkling in amusement, “Now, follow me.”

                The boy followed the older male to a wooden rotunda by the northern part of the village. Eiliandir was instructed to sit on the floor while he received a chalice. When the head returned, he was handed a cup full of a yellow liquid.

                “This drink, snake wine, is made from the most venomous of snakes. It poses no threat to your being since it is venom that a snake possesses and not poison. Drinking this is just one step to this ceremony.”

                Camaenor continued to speak about the importance of the wine, mostly about its history as he walked to the back of the rotunda and picked up a few small sticks with different oils on the ends of them. Placing the oil-covered tips into a large fire placed in the center and lighting them, he walked over to the boy on the floor. Moving the sticks in a specific manner around the elven boy, Camaenor began to lightly chant in the ancient elven language, Airuri. Once the black-haired elf chanted a few lines, he instructed the boy to slowly drink the wine before continuing. Even though he was hesitant, he did as he was told. He had expected the wine to taste god-awful but was pleasantly surprised when he was met with something that was sweet, lemony, and salty. When the chalice had been emptied, Camaenor chanted a line or two more before stopping to blow out the sticks. Instructed to stand, the two bowed to each other. Smiling, Camaenor walked him outside and to the ancient elven woman waiting outside.

                “Good day Uirebel,” the young elf greeted.

                “As well to you,” she replied in a raspy voice, gray eyes closing with her smile, “Come now, we have not time to waste.”

                The elven woman turned around, long white hair swishing behind her. Not another word was said as the two walked down a path, leading them further north from the village. Eventually, the two made it to a pool of water from a creek. She instructed the boy to remove his clothing and stand by the water’s edge. Once he was only in the pair of shorts, Uirebel stood in front of him with a large bowl. The bowl was filled with an odd mustard-yellow paste. Seeing his confused face, she explained that it was a mixture of pollens mixed with a bit of water from the pool. The woman instructed the boy to close his eyes. Once he had done so, she began to smear the pollen mixture all over his body. It… felt gross. Stepping back, she examined the yellow-ish paste that was quickly drying on his skin.

                Uirebel placed the pollen bowl down and grabbed yet another. This one was filled with different colors of powers; red, yellow, green, black, white, and brown. Uirebel took all of the powers except the brown and black and began to throw it onto the boy in various places while chanting in Airuri. Once she had run out of the colors, she traced where all of the freckled boy’s markings would be on his face, torso, and arms over the pollen with the black powder. Using the brown powder, she drew a square on the left side of his chest. Satisfied with her square, she grabbed a stick with a few small coconuts attached to them.

                At this point, she allowed him to open his eyes again as she grabbed a small bit of the left over  black powder and blew it into his face just as his eyes opened. He cringed as he felt the powder enter his eyes but was suddenly unable to move his body to wipe at them. His weight left him, leaving him feeling light and floaty. Slowly, the irritation left his eyes and when he opened them, he was no longer with the old elven woman. In fact, he wasn’t even in his village. It looked like he had been transported to the middle of a field. He looked around him frantically. Nothing but open fields. What on earth?

                “Hello Eiliandir,” he heard.

                Following the voice, he was met with an elf probably 50 or so years older than him with dark wavy hair and light blue eyes. He was dressed in a similar manner to his current outfit, a long dark grey tunic and gray pants.

                “How did we arrive here? I am a tad bit scared Túon.”

                “Túon?” the man chuckled, “No young one, I am Estelmist, your father.”

                The boy paused. Now that he thought about it, this man did look a little different than his uncle. His eyes were lighter, markings different as well as his voice, and his face was rounder too, a few freckles were speckled across his nose and cheeks. The man before him truly was his father, and even though he’s never met him, an overwhelming feeling of longing filled his being.

                “Father!” he cried as he ran towards him.

                His outburst seemed to have surprised the man as his eyes widened before he opened his arms warmly. The boy collided with his father, nearly knocking him over, as he tightly wrapped his arms around the older man.

                “I am sorry that I was not able to be there for you my son,” Estelmist apologized, releasing his hold on the freckled elf.

                “Why are you apologizing? You are not at fault for dying.”

                “I am aware… but… I was not present for your birth nor was I present for any of the milestones that you have achieved over the years,” he said quietly, “You were able to grow and mature with the help of your mother and my brother yes but… I only wish that I could have been there for you when things did not work out like they were supposed to.”

                Eiliandir looked up at the wavy haired elf, his light blue eyes were full of grief.

                “’Tis alright. Neither I nor mother harbor any distaste for you, and mother… she still loves you deeply.”

                His father nodded his head before asking his son to walk with him.

                “From the spirit world, I can see everything that happens in the village. I am aware of how difficult you were as a child, I am aware of how much you enjoy sleeping and food,” he chuckled, “You sound just like me when I was your age. But ‘tis astonishing how much you look like your mother. It seems as though only my personality went into making you who you are. Speaking of which,” Estelmist stopped walking, “Your relationship with that dragon is quite dangerous.”

                “Father if you have been watching me then you should know that Adros would never harm me!” Eiliandir protested.

                “I was not speaking of him harming you. I know that the two of you are aware of the situation that will arise should you be caught with him. I would much rather not have you in the spirit world with me at such a young age. But, even though the villagers may not, I do approve of your relationship and I wish the two of you a happy life.”

                Eiliandir looked at the wavy haired man in shock. Small tears pricked at his eyes before quickly being wiped away.

                “Thank you father,” smiled the boy.

                The two sat down in the grass and talked about random things, though mostly about the older elven man. Eiliandir wanted to know as much about him as he could before he had to leave. From the talk he found out that Estelmist wasn’t even supposed to be there. When someone goes into a trance from the black powder, they are indeed sent to their current location but they are supposed to wander around, forgetting their troubles until they are awoken. There have been occasions where the deceased will interfere if they have any intense negative feelings, such as now, but it’s not common. It didn’t take long for the conversation to quickly become uncomfortable as the man spoke about his past.

                “Before I had married your mother, there were many nights when I would seek out the comfort from some of my male friends.  I will tell you this, if you and your dragon ever get to intimacy, it will hurt the first time,” Eiliandir looked at his father with a mixture of shock and horror, was he really going to tell him that?! “It is best to use a lubricant, and you can never have enough either. I preferred oils as it is one of the slickest. Now, what you need to do is cover your fingers in the oil and start off with one to slowly prepare-”

                “Sweet heavens father!”

                Estelmist continued to talk about prepping and which positions were best for first timers, completely ignoring Eiliandir’s calls. He covered his ears but to no avail.

                “Father stop! No more!”

                He laughed at his son’s reddened face. His laughter ended abruptly at the sound of rushing water. The two looked behind them. His eyes filled with fear. A large wave of water was coming towards them. There was no escaping that!

                “T’would seem that our time is up,” the wavy haired man said sadly.

                “Am I dying?!”

                “No, you are coming too,” he laughed, the sound of water getting louder, “Can you service me? Tell your mother that I miss the two of you very much.”

                He was saying more words but the water was too deafening. He asked the man to repeat what he said but he could barely hear himself. Estelmist closed his mouth, lips forming a line as a trace of sadness showed on his features. His father smiled, waving goodbye.

 

                Water slashed onto his body and face, forcing his eyes open. Looking forward, he noticed that he was on his back, no longer in the fields with his father. The sun was on its way down, sky dyed a beautiful orange with hints of pink and purple. His sadness was abruptly ended when another wave of water doused his body. He quickly sat up and looked in the direction that the water came from, only to be met with water to the face. Uirebel, who was holding onto a wooden pail, threw one last bucketful of water onto the elf before putting it down.

                “Welcome back young one. I take it that your trance went well,” she smiled.

                “Yes. It was… eventful.”

                Humming, she nodded her head and walked up to the sitting boy. All of the pollen and powder had been rinsed off with the water but something was left in its wake. Where the brown square had been was a brown symbol located right on the left side of his chest. It looked like an ‘A’ with a loop coming from the right leg of the letter and looping around the other leg. He had never seen that symbol before. Was it an ancient rune?

                “That which cannot be comprehended. That is what the rune speaks,” spoke Uirebel.

                She smiled, holding out a hand for him to take. Accepting her offer, he was pulled to his feet. He had to admit, for her age, she was still strong.

                “Congratulations on becoming 100 today Eiliandir,” she said as she placed two white feathers in his hair just above his right ear.

                “Thank you very much Uirebel,” he bowed.

                After he had put his clothes back on, the two headed back to the village and as they neared the southern end, they (well, actually he) was being applauded at. The tables were full of people… and _food_. So much food, and he was _famished_. It was tradition to have a feast after the major parts of the coming of age ceremony ended. He was so excited that he was practically drooling. Methendis stood from her spot at the table and walked over to her son with a lei of flowers.

                “Congratulations my son,” she cooed, placing the lei around his neck, “Now, take a seat so that we may feast!”

                Not having to be told twice, the boy sat down by his mother while Uirebel sat by some of the other elves. The table was lined with a smorgasbord of different foods. There were citrus fruits, pomes, hogs, birds and fish of different types; geese, pheasant, trout, bass, you name it, they most likely had it. Camaenor stood from his seat, silencing the chatter of all the elves.

           “Today we are celebrating the coming of age for one of our own. This boy is no longer the small child that roamed around the village causing mischief with the other elves. Now, he is a respectful young man with whom you can always rely on to give a helping hand when it is needed. I am being truthful when I say that I am proud to have you take my place as village head when the time comes,” spoke the man, “Now, everyone, lift your chalices for a salute to Eiliandir. Congratulations.”

                All of the elves sitting down lifted their cups and also said their congrats. The head instructed everyone to enjoy themselves and eat to their heart’s content. With his words, all of the villagers began to fill their bowls with the various foods spread out before them.

                Before long, all of the food had been eaten and the table was cleared. Night was upon them. Some of the stronger elves moved the cauldrons out of the fire pit and placed more firewood into it before lighting the pit ablaze. While that happened, Eiliandir told his mother about his trance. At first, she didn’t believe him but once he said his father’s name, she knew that it had been true and nearly cried.

                The more musically inclined elves began to play music with various wind and percussion instruments while the others danced around the fire. The dance was a very traditional elven dance that one would learn on their own during the times when the dances were performed. Eiliandir chuckled as the slightly younger elves danced along but often missed the cues to other dance moves. The even younger elves, who had only witnessed the dance a few times, would attempt the dances but fail and nearly fall.

                Eventually, the younger elves had went to heir huts to sleep and only the older elves were awake. The dancing had ceased but the grape wine had come out. This was his first taste of the non-celebratory alcoholic beverage. He found it to be strong but whenever he would finish a cup, someone would offer him more. Before he could decline any of them, his cup was refilled. Eventually, the boy had become a little tipsy on the alcohol as was everyone else, but they were much worse. He wondered how they managed to drink so much of it when it was so strong.

                “I think… that I shall go lie down now,” he announced.

                The villagers all wished him goodnight before continuing to drink. Just before he had entered his hut, he could vaguely hear the elves mumbling to each other. Looking back at the group, he noticed an elf who had not been there when he left speaking to the village head. They were far away and so he had to strain his ears to listen.

                “Slow your speech and repeat what you have just said,” demanded Camaenor.

                “While I was on a walk, I noticed something over the lake. It was quite in the distance but there is no doubting what I saw. ‘Twas a dragon!”

                “A dragon you say? This is grave. There should be no dragons in the area. We can only hope that it was passing by,” he said, a pensive look on his face, “I think it would be best to search the area on the morrow.”

                Not quite making out the words that they were saying and too dizzy to care anymore, the elven boy entered his hut and prepared himself for bed. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their language (Airuri) is pronounced Error-ra


	10. Chapter 10

 

                Eiliandir awoke the next day with a headache. It wasn’t too bad as it more like an annoyance. After eating his breakfast, the elf rushed into the woods. He could not wait to see the dragon. Sure, they had been separated for more than a few day in the past but he just really wanted to see his lover. Once he exited the forest, he was mildly disappointed to not see the blonde. Maybe he was trying to scare him? He looked behind him, nothing. He was confused. The dragon was always here when he arrived. Perhaps he was somewhere else along the lake? Or maybe he was just late?  

                Going with the latter thought, he walked towards a rather large boulder that jutted out of the water’s edge a few meters in the opposite direction of their normal spot. The boulder was long and about three times his size. He started to climb it with ease due to its slightly inclined shape but before he could get very high, a pair of hands grabbed him by his hips and lifted him into the air. Panicked, he was going to start kicking at whatever had grabbed him until he was brought down into a hug from behind. Realizing who was holding him, he calmed down and pressed his back into the body.

                “Adros, you nearly gave me a fright!” he chuckled as he looked up at the blonde’s face.

                “My apologies,” he apologized as he put the elf down, “Such an interesting garb that you are donning.”

                “’Tis tradition to wear the celebratory gown for the first few suns after the person reaches their 100th year,” Eiliandir explained, fanning out the baggy pants of his outfit.

                “I see. It flatters you nicely,” complimented the dragon, eyeing the boy up and down, “Also, congratulations on the completion of your first century. I suppose that I can no longer call you a child.”

                “Compared to your age, I still am.”

                “Are you implying that I am old?”

                Eiliandir chuckled, walking away from the blonde.

                “Perhaps.”

                The two walked towards their usual spot by the lake. The elf couldn’t wait to tell the taller man all about the day before. Once he mentioned Estelmist, the dragon spoke, questioning how if he died before he was born. He explained the trance to him and how he was able to talk to his father.

                “’Twas rather nice to speak to my father and learn who he was as a person,” said Eiliandir as he hugged his knees, “But even though I was able to meet my father, I do wish that you could have joined in the festivities. You may have enjoyed them.”

                “’Tis not as if we cannot have festivities of our own,” the dragon suggested slyly.

                The smoldering look in the blonde’s eyes sent shivers down the elf’s spine. He knew exactly what the older male meant and he was for it, but rather than outright admitting that, he decided to play dumb. Eiliandir let go of his knees, turning slightly to face his lover.

                “Oh? How would we go about celebrating?”

                Adros placed one of his hands on the small of the elf’s back and a finger under the freckled chin, using it to gently lift his head upwards.

                “Well, we could do this,” he cooed as he kissed the elf under his eye, “Or perhaps something akin to this.”

                He kissed the boy’s cheek beside his mouth and after one more suggestion, he pecked his lover on the lips.

                “I believe that I prefer the latter proposal,” Eiliandir said sultrily as he placed his hands on the taller man’s shoulders.

                Adros placed his lips upon the elf’s again, only deeper this time. Eiliandir ran his fingers through the dragon’s silky hair, gently massaging the small horns when his fingers ran across them. The hand on the elf’s back moved to his neck and lightly tickled the back of it; it was one of the boy’s many weak points. Eiliandir gave a small moan at his actions and it was all the dragon needed to go further. The freckled elf opened his mouth when he felt the dragon’s forked tongue lightly touch his lips. The two had never kissed with their tongues and he was eager and curious to feel his lover in his mouth. Noticing how impatient the elf was, he didn’t waste any time and stuck his wet muscle into his lover’s mouth as he rubbed at the boy’s sides. Not at all satisfied with the just the dragon’s tongue, he met the blonde halfway and started to play with his lover’s tongue with his own. Scaly hands tugged at the gray sash around the boy’s waist, successfully removing it before slipping into the open robe.

                The two were startled and pulled apart abruptly when they heard a thump next to them. An arrow was lodged into the ground beside them. The elf’s eyes widened in realization as he looked behind him. There was a small group of people standing by the forest with shocked and angry expressions, only two of them holding weapons. It was his villagers, including someone who he hoped would never find out about this, Camaenor.

                “Is this what you have been doing for all of this time?! You know very well that dragons are our enemy and yet you are taken with one?!” Camaenor asked as the elf stood, holding his robe closed in an attempt to hide his arousal, “Was your injury just a farce to see this dragon?!”

                “You do not understand Camaenor! He is not like the other dragons! And that injury was real! ‘Twas he that had helped me!”

                One of the elves raised their bow and drew an arrow back. He looked back at the blonde who had pulled the arrow out of the ground, an eerie chuckle escaping his lips as he got to his feet.

                “Ah, I suppose that my façade has been uncovered,” admitted the dragon, “I am surprised that you had never figured it out Eiliandir.”

                The young elf’s eyes widened in shock at his words. That shock was short-lived when he saw Adros’ eyes. They were filled with an intense conflict. He paled, what was he about to do?

                “They are right. That trap was indeed mine. ‘Twas all a deliberate plan to get you to fall for me. Have you ever watched as someone who believes that you love them dies by your hand? To watch as the light fades from their eyes with a betrayed look upon their face?” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

                Adros roughly grabbed the elf and pushed him against his chest. He squeezed the boy’s cheeks and forced the boy to look at him.

                “I _was_ going to devour you today after I had my way with you but ‘twould seem that they have ruined my plans. What should I do? Should I eradicate them?” he asked, a sinister grin forming on his lips as he raised the discarded arrow to point at the boy’s face, “Or should I continue and kill you first?”

                All of the villagers went on guard at his words. The other archer drew their weapon, both of them looking for any sort of opening to attack.

                _‘Adros, please stop! They are going to kill you!’_ pleaded the elven boy.

                His thoughts were violently cut off when an arrow imbedded itself in his leg, forcing his knees to buckle and Adros to let go. They were trying to get him out of the way so that they could aim freely at the blonde. Thankfully, he, too, realized that and after hesitating, quickly began to fly away. The two archers aimed and fired. Adros managed to dodge them but one had caught him off guard and lodged itself in his back, causing him to falter. As much as Eiliandir wanted to call out to him in worry, he refrained. Adros was doing this for his sake, he can’t screw it up and have it be for nothing. Some of the villagers were yelling at him to stay away or else but their words only buzzed in the freckled boy’s ears. Tears fell from his eyes; He was never going to see his lover again. Once the dragon was far enough away, Camaenor approached the injured elf.

                “Your actions should have you marked as treasonous, but ‘twould seem as though you have been deceived. I am highly suspicious for I do not understand how you did not see through a trick such as that but we will keep this incident between us. You are forbidden from leaving the village indefinitely.”

                “Yes sir. I understand,” he sniffed, “I thank you for helping me to see the truth.”

                Seemingly satisfied with his answer, all of the elves began their return trip to the village. Once they had arrived, Camaenor sent Eiliandir to Nestor’s medical hut to do something about the arrow in his leg. After getting patched up, he refused to go home. Nestor had been there since day 1 so he was the perfect person to lament to. He was kind enough to let the boy stay for as long as he wanted. It was when he was going to lay down on one of the many beds that he noticed something in his robe. Pulling it out, his eyes misted over. It was one of Adros’ larger scales, just barely smaller than his pinky nail.

                “How did this…?”

                It must have slipped in just before everything happened. They were a couple for a week and were already forced to separate. He was going to treasure that scale.

                This existence that we call life… it’s so unfair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... sorry not sorry


	11. Chapter 11

                For the next few days, Eiliandir refused to leave Nestor’s medical hut. The only times that he did leave was at night where he could view the stars while perched in tree branches. Even if Methendis bribed him with his favorite foods, he still didn’t budge. It was then when she realized that something was seriously wrong with her son and how much he was hurting. Of course, everyone had noticed that _something_ was wrong but only a few people found out about the situation.

                “Eiliandir?” he heard with a knock, “May I enter?”

                Raenel had come to try to cheer him up again, but he didn’t want to be ‘ _cheered’_. Right now, he felt like dying. The dark gray haired elf entered the hut, eyes immediately falling onto the freckled elf sitting on the ground against a wall. His eyes were dull, lifeless, and red from the many tears that he had shed. He was surprisingly neat, most likely from Nestor taking care of him though his unmoving nature would make one think that he was dead. When she approached, his eyes shifted to look at her.

                “Hello Eiliandir.” she greeted softly as she sat down in front of the broken boy.

                The elven girl placed a chalice full of water and a small loaf of bread on an upturned basket by his bed.

                “How do you fare today? Are you any better?” she asked, “I have brought you some water and a loaf of rye. I know it is your favorite.”

                Instead of a reply, he looked away. He didn’t want anything, he just wanted to be alone. She nodded her head, noting that no, he wasn’t feeling better.

                “I see,” Raenel thought aloud, “I truly am sorry for what happened to you. You had been so much happier these past few months… I could see how much you loved that dragon, and, though I cannot fully understand the situation for I am not you, I am sure that he loved you very deeply as well.”

                Her words caused him to look at her again. All of the people who were aware of this knew that he wasn’t easy to fool. He was curious as to what she was going to say.

                “From what I had heard from Camaenor, the dragon had spouted some very off-putting words, his actions were no better as well. But I think… I believe that he had only done those things to make you seem as innocent as possible. That alone, is why I believe that he truly did care for you.”

                His eyes widened in surprise. She had always had a keen eye but this was just amazing. It’s possible that the others have figured it out as well but she was the first to approach him and talk to him about it. All of the others either didn’t want to believe it or haven’t thought about it. Noticing the change in expression, the green eyed girl smiled softly.

                “I take it that I am correct?”

                Before another word could be said, a black-haired elf barged into the hut. The man stomped over to Eiliandir and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. Eiliandir didn’t fight back, choosing instead to hang limply from his clothing.

                “What do you thing that you are doing, eh, Eiliandir?! You are supposed to be resilient! ‘Tis unlike you to act in this manner!”

                “Gorvon stop it!” Raenel demanded.

                “No! He must listen to me!” he replied, looking back at the dejected elf, “If what Raenel believes to be true, if that dragon _did_ indeed care for you, the two of you _cannot_ be together! Their kind and ours are natural enemies! Fire versus water! If Camaenor had not been merciful, you would have been dead by now! Are you comprehending what I am saying?! You need to overcome all of this suffering that you are putting yourself through and move on with your life!”

                “You have gone too far Gorvon!” the elven girl scolded.

                Raenel and Gorvon started to argue. The dark eyed man’s words struck a chord in him, anger was quickly rising in him. He lowered his head so that his somewhat unkempt bangs covered his eyes.

                “Leave.” he said lowly, grabbing the other elves’ attention.

                “What did you say?” Gorvon asked.

                Grabbing the hand that had a firm grasp on his shirt, he looked at the man, fire burning in his eyes. Seeing the look that he was on the receiving end of, the elf smirked.

                “I said _be gone_!” he yelled as he stood on his feet and pulled the offending hand off of his shirt, “How _dare_ you speak such _nonsense_! Do you truly believe that I can simply stand up and walk away from all of this after my heart was shattered into pieces you insensitive jerk?! You will _never_ understand how I am feeling! _NEVER_! Now _LEAVE_!”

                The smirk didn’t leave the man’s face, in fact he seemed satisfied as he left the hut without another word. He was so incredibly angry! He needed an outlet. He screamed and punched the wall behind him, startling the girl in the room. Overwhelmed by the intense emotions, his angered scream abruptly changed into loud sobbing as he leaned forward and slid down the wall. He was tired, so tired of crying but the reassuring hand rubbing small circles on his back only made him pour out his frustrations with tears.

 

 

 

                When Eiliandir opened his eyes, he immediately closed them again. The air made them sting. It wasn’t entire painful but it caught him off guard nonetheless. He was also a little disoriented but once he got his bearings, he realized that not only was he alone, but he was laying down. He must have cried himself to sleep. Sitting up, he placed a hand on his throat. It was sore as well as his diaphragm; his head hurt a little too.

                Standing up, Eiliandir stretched his stiff muscles only to wince at the pain in his leg. The wound from the arrow was mostly healed but it seemed as though the muscle was still healing. Maybe, he thought, it was time that he go outside. The sun was on its way down, the smell of food actually managing to make him hungry. Almost immediately, he was noticed by someone walking by.

                “Eiliandir!” the person exclaimed, nearly dropping the books in their grasp, “You have come outside!”

                The freckled boy went to speak but all that came out was a raspy noise. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

                “Hello Habadon,” he greeted, voice sounding hoarse.

                By now, the elves who were nearby or heard the teacher’s outburst had come over and surrounded them. They were all asking if he was alright or if he was feeling any better. Some even noted at how bad he looked and they weren’t wrong. There were bags under his red and puffy eyes and it looked like he had lost a little weight from refusing to eat for so long. There were too many questions being asked. Just over the sounds of everyone talking, he could vaguely hear someone repeatedly saying ‘excuse me’. The words became louder and louder until his mother emerged from the crowd. Seeing her son standing and _outside_ on his own brought tears to her eyes.

                “I am so glad that you are feeling better my son,” she breathed as she hugged him, “I apologize for not being able to do anything for you but… ‘tis good to have you back.”

                “I am sorry that I worried you mother.”

                “You have not eaten in days, you must be famished.”

                “A tad bit I suppose.”

                Grabbing her son’s arm, she pulled him through the crowd and to the tables by the south of the village. They had been almost completely set since it was almost time to eat. So far, it seemed to be a mix of greens, fish of different kinds, a fishy broth with vegetables, and various breads. It didn’t take long for everyone to sit down and start eating. His appetite wasn’t completely back so he only ate a small bowl of broth with some fish before he couldn’t eat anymore.

                After everyone had eaten, some of the elven people had spoken to him regarding his mental health, one of which included his uncle.

                “Are you feeling any better?” Túon asked.

                “Only slightly. To be honest, I already feel a tad bit tired.”

                The blacksmith hummed in understanding.

                “Forgive me if I sound insensitive for that is not my intention, but I think that I know a way to help you overcome this tribulation. I have noticed that ever since you were young, you would always focus on the task at hand. I believe that keeping you preoccupied would be most beneficial. That being said, you _are_ about the age required for an apprentice and I happen to be in _need of one_ ,” he drawled, “If you think that you are up to the task, I would love to have you.”

                The boy’s eyes widened with disbelief. An apprentice?! He’s always wanted for blacksmithing to be his profession when he was old enough. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Eagerly replying a hearty ‘yes!’ to the wavy-haired elf, he smiled for the first time in days.

                Life may be unfair, but there are times when it will realize that it had kicked you too hard and apologize…

                … but that apology will never be equivalent in value.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me


	12. Chapter 12

 

                It had been almost four years since Eiliandir and Adros had last seen each other. It took time, but he slowly fell back into normalcy, pushing his thoughts about the blonde to the back of his mind. Many people tried to help with the transition but the one who helped the most was his father. Estelmist was always watching him, making the man the perfect person to talk to. There were times when he was unable to get in touch with his father and when that happened, Nestor or Raenel would be the next people that he’d talk to. There were times when certain actions or words would trigger memories, flooding his mind with all of the conversations, the playfulness, and the antics of years before. Sometimes he would wander towards the lake without realizing it, but the dragon was never there. It was during these times that his father would appear to him in his dreams and calm him down.

                Tying his (much too long) silver hair into a loose ponytail, Eiliandir exited his hut and shivered at the bite in the air. Winter was taking its sweet time transitioning into spring, still requiring people to wear warmer clothes or wraps made of thicker cloths or animal skins. Making his way to the forge a little early, he was surprised to see Túon already there preparing the metals.

                “Good, you are present,” greeted his uncle, “We have to make quite a few things today Eiliandir. Lhingron requires a new hunting knife, Cóvon would like a longer, more _sword-like_ knife apparently… Tithenil has asked for a new hammer, Ianneth has told me that the bread plate has cracked. I have taken a look at it and it is impossible to fix. She will require a new one and Lothuialon has asked for a new axe as well,” his uncle listed from a paper.

                Eiliandir whistled at the long agenda. Making a longer knife alone will take a good portion of the day to get _at least_ partly finished. Dividing up the work, Eiliandir was put in charge of making the hammer, axe, and hunting knife while Túon got the sword-knife (which will take more time) and the bread plate. With it divvied up the way that it was, the blacksmith estimated that they should both be done around the same time. Working as his uncle’s apprentice had managed to give him a little more muscle mass than he had before which made it easier to do his duties. The strength required to use a bow was nothing compared to hitting metal with a hammer. Both of the elves prepped their stations so that once their breakfast had been concluded, they could get right to work.

                Once they had finished eating, Eiliandir started on the hammer and Túon began his work on the bread plate. Both objects were the easiest to make and would take the least amount of time. While his uncle was finishing the flat shape into his metal chuck, the apprentice began his work on the axe all the while humming a tune. It was almost as easy as the hammer but actually required some bashing and filing. Just before Eiliandir finished, his uncle moved onto the ‘sword’. He just couldn’t get the shape of the axe head quite right. After a bit of messing around, he was satisfied with his work and shoved a wooden handle through the hole that he had made into the metal. Observing the feel and weight of the completed axe, he nodded his head in approval before moving onto the hunting knife. The best part about most blades, including knives, was the fact that you couldn’t finish them in one day, making the work load easier to manage.

                Once again grabbing a block of metal, he placed it into the fire with metal clams and once it was hot enough, pulled it out and banged on it with it a hammer until it reached the proper shape. After heating the crude knife until it turned red, he wrapped the soon-to-be-blade with a cloth. There, all done! Looking over at Túon, he could see that the man still had some work to do with his blade. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the pink eyed elf sat down on a log. The sun was nearly down and some elves were already preparing dinner.

                “Finished already?” asked his uncle in amazement.

                “Indeed, you seem to be slowing somewhat,” Eiliandir chuckled, “I believe that you may be getting old.”

                “You think me to be old? I am as spry as a 40 year old!” he defended, stopping his work.

                The elven boy laughed.

                Túon eventually finished wrapping the blade in a cloth just as the food had been ready to eat. As he sat down, Eiliandir was excited to see his favorite bread. If he could give up all other foods for rye bread, he… wouldn’t do it. He just really loves food. Also on the table was deer stew with vegetables and greens of different sorts.

                Once all of the elves had finished eating and returned to finish the day, Camaenor approached him claiming to have business to discuss with him. Confused as to what he needed to talk about, he followed the man to a spot where they would talk in private.

                “I have heard that many of our women have expressed interest in you and you had declined _every_ one of them. As someone of nearly 104 summers, do you not think that it may be time to expand upon your tree?” he asked, “I had originally thought that you may be saving yourself for Raenel to have her coming of age ceremony come spring but ‘twould seem that Gorvon has already asked for her hand.”

                He remembered about a week ago when Raenel ran over to him, flustered, and told him what happened. She would always talk to him about her crush on the dark-haired elf, and… admittedly, he was jealous that she was getting a happy ending. But if anyone deserved one, it was her. Raenel was such as kind person who was always there for everyone.

                “Why is it that you refuse to marry young one? Do you prefer men to women?”

                Of course he preferred men! Not only that but Eiliandir didn’t _want_ to be with anyone but Adros. He had never felt so connected to someone, he was his one and only. Camaenor blocked out what happened three years ago, almost as if to him, the reason why he locked himself up for three days was because of the arrow in his leg, some kind of hunting incident. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he was really starting to resent the man.

                “I… I am merely not ready for marriage,” lied the hot pink eyed elf.

                “I see,” he mumbled, “But, you must understand that it is custom to marry no more than 12 seasons after the coming of age ceremony and you are nearing your 16th. I have given you time to recover after your injury but if you do not pick a spouse soon, I am afraid that I am going to have to arrange one for you."

                “I understand sir. I… I-I think it would be best if you chose for me,” Eiliandir struggled to say as he looked at the ground.

                Camaenor nodded his head and walked away. He took a deep breath. All this talk about marriage made him think of his lost love. His heart ached… he needed to take a walk. Today was going so well too. Eiliandir walked to the sacred tree in the north. His father once told him that if he needed emotional support to sit under the tree. Even though he was awake, he would do everything in his power to help his son, and if he took a nap then he would calm down even faster. Eiliandir leaned against the smooth bark, running his fingers through the grass at his legs.

                The sun was low on the horizon, telling everyone to come back to the village, that they should be getting ready to go to bed for the night or to light the fire pit. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if a wolf came and tore him to shreds. He didn’t care if he died. The boy chuckled. If Nestor heard him talking like that again, he’d never hear the end of it.

                Jumping at the feeling of something soft brushing against his arm, he let out a relieved breath when he saw what it was. It was a fox, but not Buteo. About a year ago, the girl had given birth to three kits. When she brought the kits over when they were older, the elves who knew about her –himself, his mother, and a few others –absolutely melted. All of the kits were given cloth collars like their mother; Buteo had white, Lontra was pink, Bufo was given black, and Eutella had blue.

                “Good day Lontra,” smiled the elf as he pet the fox.

                This one was especially fond of being pet, even going as far as to sit on his lap. He didn’t know how but lately the foxes have been showing up when he’s feeling down, as if they had a sadness radar. Petting her actually made him feel so much better. He was truly grateful that he had the animal companions.

                But soon, his fate would be decided for him and these temporary bouts of happiness will be gone.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... school started as well as work.... I'm going to be posting sporadically but hopefully at least once every 2 weeks

 

 

                Today, Eiliandir was given the day off because only the remainder of yesterday’s things needed to be smithed today. Of course, instead of actually resting, he decided to help one of the cooking elves, Aemes, make coconut oil. He’s done this in the past so making it was fairly easy. After removing the meat from a coconut and grating it, he extracted the milk and once it was all out, he boiled it until all of the water evaporated. At that point, the oil could be seen floating above the milk. After letting the mixture cool, all that was left to do was use a cloth to remove the oil and let it settle to let the impurities sink. After separating _that_ , he was done. Though, given the time of year, the oil quickly cooled and gained a butter-like consistency.

                “I thank you for all of your help,” thanked Aemes as she handed him a vial of the oil, “Please, take this.”

                “Are you certain?”

                Though great for cooking with, coconut oil was also great for the skin and hair. She nodded her head with a smile. Thanking her, he placed the vial in the satchel on his hip and headed back to his hut. He had taken a bath the night before and forgot to put his soap and stone back so this was the perfect time to put everything away. Before he could enter his home, his mother walked out and stopped him.

                “You have the most perfect of timing,” Methendis announced, “Night is nigh and our supply of firewood is low. We have enough to last us until tomorrow however so you do not need to venture out now if you do not want to.”

                Eiliandir sighed. Might was well go now before he gets comfortable. Grabbing the axe off of the wall in the hut, the elf went into the forest to cut down some dead or dying trees. This was a great time to go since most of the trees were filled with small, just beginning to bud, leaves. He wandered a little trying to find the prefect sized, hopefully dead, tree. As he walked, he began to smell something burning. The sun _was_ setting soon so he thought that it was just someone lighting a fire in either their home or the cauldron. That, unfortunately, was not the case. Looking up at the scarlet sky, he could see the billowing black cloud through the vegetation. With panic running through his veins, he ran back as quickly as his legs would take him.

                The sight before him numbed him. Everything was on fire, the ground littered with body parts and pools of acid. Looking above the village, he could see blue and black dragons circling the sky. Sure there was a possibility of a black dragon living in the swamp in the northwest but there wasn’t a desert anywhere _near_ the village. So, what was a _blue_ dragon doing over here?! Everyone was panicking, trying to run to safety or to make sure that the children weren’t captured. Once Eiliandir had seen someone get snatched off of the ground and bitten into, he knew that he had to take action.

                Running around, he told anyone that he could find to hide anywhere outside the village that blocked a ground view. After a while of this, he noticed that he had yet to see his mother nor Camaenor. Taking advantage of his distraction, one of the dragons grabbed a hold of his ponytail with a small bit of his shirt and started to lift him into the air. Not giving it a second thought, he pulled out a knife from his satchel and cut the ponytail off. The dragon’s grip on his shirt wasn’t very tight and so he managed to slip out of their grasp. When he landed, the first thing that he did was run into the forest and under a boulder’s edge.

                He waited for the dragon to lose interest and fly away. Once it did, he ran out back out and looked around. Catching sight of Camaenor’s hut slowly collapsing in on itself he rushed over to it and could hear his mother crying. He could barely see inside of the hut when he looked through a small opening. All of the exits had been blocked, planks from the hut blocked the door.

                “Mother!” he called, “Are you injured at all?!”

                Hearing her son’s voice, she replied immediately.

                “I am fine but Camaenor has been injured by debris!”

                Taking the axe out from his belt, be started to chop at the door.

                “Stop! Leave us!” the injured man exclaimed, “You need to escape!”

                The elven boy growled in anger. He was _not_ leaving his own mother behind to die! Within a minute of attacking the wooden door and planks, he was able to get a hole big enough to fit a person through. Calling to his mother inside, he instructed her to help Camaenor through it. Carefully removing him, he helped the man stand on two feet as Methendis climbed through herself. Carefully avoiding detection from the dragons overhead, he brought the two to the rest of the elves in the woods.

                “We need to get away from this area! Start walking but do not leave the cover of the trees!” he instructed.

                Agreeing with him, they began to walk. The elf’s blood ran cold when he realized something.

                “Mother, can you take care of Camaenor for me? I am going to draw them away from the group.”

                “Draw them- Have you gone mad?!”

If he told her the real reason why he needed to stop, his mother would have none of it.

                “No. Please mother. I will find the lot of you once I can escape them, I swear on it.”

                Caving, she grabbed hold of the injured man, allowing him to run back into the village. He needed to go back to his hut. Ignoring the scorching fires and puddles of acid, he made his way to his home, which was on fire, but he didn’t care. Running inside, he rummaged through his half-on-fire blankets until he came across a thin, fraying rope attached to something green. It was still here, the green scale, completely untouched by the flames. He usually either wore it as a bracelet or tied it to his waistband but while he was replacing the rope, he got distracted and left it in his blankets. That scale was his precious possession. If he left it, it would mean leaving behind everything that the dragon had meant to him. Snapping out of his relieved stupor, he noticed that his neck felt awfully hot. His hair was on fire! Thankfully, the flames weren’t large and so a few quick smacks extinguished it. Speedily tying the rope ends together, he slipped his wrist through the scale bracelet and ran out of the hut.

                As he made his way back to the forest, he noticed a shadow quickly becoming larger around him. This time, if he was captured, he knew he couldn’t get away. Swiftly taking a left, he narrowly evaded the dragon. It didn’t give up though, continuing to chase after him as it teased him with mocking words and random attacks. This gained the attention of another dragon. Now he was being chased by two of them. Eiliandir quickly made his way into the woods but the dragons didn’t stop. They were persistent. He continued to run, even after it was dark. He wasn’t sure how long he needed to run for to get away from them, but he needed to stop, legs screaming for rest. He needed somewhere to hide, he was nearly out of trees.

                Exiting the woods, he was met with a wall of rock… but there were no mountains around besides the opposite side of the lake. There was no way he had ran that far. Panicking, he turned around and came face to face with three dragons. When did the _third one_ start following him?!

                “Why did you feel the need to run elf boy?” one of the dragons asked.

                “We do not appreciate having to chase our meal such distances.”

                Eiliandir was trapped, the dragons closing in on him. He knew that this was it, he was going to die today, the three calling dibs on certain body parts. Closing his eyes tightly, he accepted his fate. Fear filled every bone in his body when he felt a hand on his arm though was surprised when he was pulled onto a chest. Curious as to what had just happened, he opened his eyes and looked at the three dragons whose faces were filled with terror. Wait, three? If one of them _wasn’t_ holding him then who was? Is that who they were afraid of? Looking up at who had captured him, his eyes widened.

                His savior… had long dirty blonde and green hair.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

                 
                “B-Bloody Iziyi! ‘Tis Adros!” one of the dragon announced quietly as the three trembled in fear.

                “You three,” the blonde called, “May I ask as to why you were attacking this elf?”

                The dragons looked at each other, as if volunteering one another to speak.

                “We… we were pillaging a village… t-this one cleared the area but was the last to flee,” another dragon answered.

                The three’s faces paled. Eiliandir couldn’t see Adros’ face but he assumed that he was giving them the very same death stare that he had given his brother back then.

                “This village that you speak of… was it his?”

                “… Um… we believe that it was… so… y-yes?”

                All three dragons jumped in fear at the murderous look in Adros’ eyes.

                “Consider yourselves lucky that we are in the presence of another,” he began, “But, if we cross paths again then deem your luck to be expired.”

                Still holding the elf in his arms, the blonde jumped into the air and flew to a small cave opening near the top of the mountain. Once the two landed inside, Eiliandir was almost immediately brought into a tight hug.

                “Adros… too tight,” he struggled.

                “Forgive me,” the man apologized as he loosened his grip, “I thought… I thought that I would never see you again. I have missed you.”

                “As have I. My desire to see you again was unbearable!” exclaimed Eiliandir. His eyes trailed downwards to the ground, “To be honest, I was unsure of what I would do without you.”

                Adros wiped at the elf’s cheek. When did he start crying?

                “I want to apologize for the threats and spiteful words that I said to you and your villagers all of those years ago. I did not mean it.”

                “Do not fret. I am aware that you had only did those things for my sake.”

                His words relaxed the dragon, allowing him to let out a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding.

                “But… I will ask as to how you knew that I was down there.”

                “I had been out for a flight when I happened to smell smoke coming from the direction of your village. By the time that I had arrived, it had already been destroyed and evacuated… and when I saw your hair on the ground, I thought for sure that I had lost you.”

                Eiliandir asked how he knew that it was his to which he replied “It smelled like you”.

                “Speaking of which, you are injured.” Adros addressed, confusing the elf, “I had seen the three flying towards the mountain and went to question them, however on my way here, I smelled blood, _your_ blood,” the boy checked his body for injuries, “Not only that… but your hair is singed as well as your clothes and skin. Were you caught in one of the fires?”

                “In a way. I had went back to my hut for something,” he admitted as he stopped his search, “That is why I was being chased. Had I left with my villagers, I most likely would have gotten my entire village killed since there would not have been anyone to distract them. But I also would not have been able to meet you again.”

                “What was so important to you that you risked your life for it?” Adros asked, flabbergasted.

                Eiliandir lifted his arm until the green scale was showing on his bracelet. The blonde’s face filled with surprise before a small smile crept onto his face, eyes softening. He placed his hand on the elf’s cheek and rubbed his skin with his scaly thumb.

                “You are quite eccentric. All of that for my scale? Though, I do suppose that is one of the reasons why I love you.”

                “And I love you as well,” said the elven boy as he hugged his lover.

                The two shared a short kiss. It was a needy kiss but the passion was still just as strong as their last one. A thought passed through Eiliandir’s head, causing blood to rush to his cheeks.

                “I-I desire to continue from whence we left off.”

 _‘For you to make love to me.’_ he finished in his head.

                Adros’ face was overcast in conflict, almost like he was battling with himself.

                “No.”

                “I have not seen you in over three years and yet you refuse?” he asked, dejected.

                “You are _injured_ Eiliandir. Should we do anything of the sort, it will only aggravate your wounds,” informed Adros as he grabbed the elf’s hand, “Now, let us go and see to them before they become infected.”

                The blonde led him further into the cave. The elf started to hobble as the adrenaline faded from his veins, the pain in his feet becoming more apparent. Noticing the boy’s limp, the blonde swiped the boy off of his feet and carried him further inside. He would’ve complained but being off of his feet felt wonderful. After walking through a short, narrow hallway, they walked into a large, open square room with another path leading out to the left and a tapestry on the wall to the right. There was a lit torch on the two walls untouched by paths or hanging objects. On the rocky ceiling were multiple small holes, maybe about as wide as he was, most likely for letting in sunlight. In the center of the room was a rectangular pool of water surrounded by two rows of plants on each side. From where they stood, it looked like an assortment of fruits and vegetables.

                Adros took a left and walked through the thin flap of fabric that blocked off the path. As the walkway curved slightly to the right, they passed by two wooden doors before arriving at one at the very end of the hall. Walking inside, Eiliandir was amazed to see a large rectangular room. Leading the elf to a bed, he sat him down before telling him to wait there and leaving. The boy took this time to examine the room. The bed that he was sitting on was made of lumber and perched a few feet off of the ground. Rope lined the bottom of the bed, holding up a bundle of hay and grasses wrapped in cloth, blankets, and feathers wrapped in a softer cloth to rest ones head on. Alcoves lined the walls which held holes for light –which also had fabric to close them –, torches, or to act as shelves. Much of the floor was covered in various sizes and shapes of dried wheat stalks weaved into rugs. There was a divot in the center of the room filled with logs of wood that were currently lit to keep the room illuminated and warm. The ceiling was relatively smooth with small stalagmites hanging from it.

                Adros came back less than ten minutes later with a basketful of vials, rags, bandages, and a tea cup.

                “What are those for?” asked the elven boy as the blonde placed his basket onto a mat on the floor.

                “I am uncertain as to what your injuries consist of so I have brought a multitude of medicinal oils and powders to help with various things. I have also brought you some thyme tea with cayenne and lemon to help you heal faster,” the man explained, “But before I hand this over, I need you to remove your clothing.”

                Eiliandir’s face filled with mild irritation. He crossed his arms.

                 “ _Now_ you want me bare before you.”

                “Come now. If you chose to stay with me, we will have more than enough time to do whatever we so choose.”

                Still pouting, the elf carefully stood to remove his ripped pants before taking off his equally destroyed long-sleeved tunic. He was a little angry that he was wearing shorts under his pants because then he would’ve been naked, and being naked might have tempted the blonde. Adros thanked the shorter male before handing him the hot cup of tea before examining the boy’s injuries. Eiliandir sniffed the tea that was given to him. It’s not as if he thought that it was poison, but whenever he’s given something that he’s not familiar with, he always sniffs it to see if he could get an idea as to what it would taste like. Not able to smell anything over the lemon, he took a small sip of the tea and nearly choked.

                “I know that it may not taste the best but please try to endure it.”

                May not taste the best? It was spicy lemon tea with a hint of mint. It was awful. But, if it was supposed to help him, then he guessed that he could get it down.

                “They are worse than I had previously thought…,” the dragon thought aloud.

                Eiliandir’s neck and hands were burned as well as some spots on his arms and legs from digging through his flaming belongings. His knees were bleeding from tripping in the woods and some of the bad burns like the one on his neck was bleeding ever so slightly. One of his feet was cut by a sharp rock piercing his boot and would most likely need stitches. Once the elf finished his tea, Adros was able to properly treat him. The boy chuckled, confusing the blonde, reminiscing that this was the second time that the dragon had taken care of him. The two sat in silence, the boy occasionally wincing when the man put an oil or powder on a sore.

                “Adros?” he called, looking up at the ceiling as the dragon bandaged his feet, “Why is it that those dragons from before were so afraid of you?”

                The blonde didn’t answer right away, as if trying to figure out what to say.

                “During the time that we were separated I had become the leader of a clan.” he replied, “The leader before me was a great wyrm and his dying wish was for me to take his place. That is the reason as to why I wear this shawl upon my shoulders; it is a sign of leadership. Why he chose me, however, I am uncertain. It did not take very long for all of the dragons in the clan to fully acknowledge me as their leader. Due to my outward persona many of them seem to fear me. But, I do suppose that helps me control them somewhat. However, those three that had followed you were not part of my clan. I am not entirely sure as to why they were so fearful,” explained the blonde, “But do not fret, as long as I am their leader then you are in no danger. If I were to bond with you, they would be foolish to attempt any harm on you.”

                “Bond?” Eiliandir repeated.

                Adros said nothing, only smirking before finishing his work on the foot. The boy whined his lover’s name, a mixture of curiosity and irritation laced in his voice. What did he mean by ‘bond? Finally finished bandaging the elf, the blonde stood up and kissed him, effectively shutting him up.

                “Do not worry about that for-

                Eiliandir didn’t allow him to finish his sentence, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders and pulling him closer to kiss him again. It had been too long since they had properly kissed and if they couldn’t have sex, then this was just as good.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

                Eiliandir awoke to Adros calling him. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that it was early. The elf rolled over, back facing the blonde.

                “’s a little longer.” he snoozed.

                “As much as I would like to allow you to continue to sleep, we do have a busy day ahead of us.”

                After Adros had treated the boy’s injures yesterday –and fixed his hair (it was so short now! Barely over his shoulders!), he gave him the choice to either stay with him or to find his villagers and rejoin them. Before the man could say anything else, Eiliandir jumped at the chance to stay. If he were to go with his villagers, he’d be forced to marry someone or if they ever found out that he was here, killed for treason. Not only that, but he would much rather be with his lover, he felt so much happier with him. The blonde was overjoyed to hear his decision but quickly realized that the boy had nothing besides what he currently had in his satchel, and it wasn’t much. He would need things like clothes and shoes at least and the gash on his foot needed proper care. Thankfully, the blonde knew a place they could go but they would need to leave early since it was about an hour’s flight.

                Whining under his breath, Eiliandir reluctantly flipped onto his stomach and stretched his limbs. Blinking open his hot pink eyes and turning his head, his vision focused on the dragon before him. The room wasn’t exactly bright, signifying that the sun was still fairly low in the sky.

                “Good morning,” the elf yawned.

                “Good morrow indeed,” chuckled Adros as he walked away, “Now come, the faster that you get up and dressed, the quicker we can depart.”

                Reluctantly, Eiliandir got out of bed and rubbed his eye. Even though he used to get up fairly early to help the elves cook, he _hated_ waking up early. Still rather drowsy and wobbly, the elf pulled at the hem of his tunic, eventually getting it over his head. The sudden sting from the fabric tugging at his neck sobered him. Holding the tunic in his hand, he rubbed at his bandaged wounds as the blonde walked back wearing a pair of brown-gray pants and holding a knapsack.

                “Scrape your neck?” he asked.

                The boy hummed in response, the pain ebbing away. Adros placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s neck, mumbling about something to ease the pain. The man handed him a beige shirt. It was much longer than his ripped tunic, almost long enough to cover the rips on his leggings’ knees. If he put on his waist belt then it would look _somewhat_ normal.

                Finally ready to depart, the two slowly walked back towards the room with the pool of water before walking into the tunnel that they had entered from the day before, being careful not to aggravate the wounds on his feet. Instead of going up through the upper path, they continued outward until they arrived at a cave mouth on the side of the mountain. Eiliandir looked down. They were high up but getting down would be fairly easy as the mountainside had a mostly smooth, walkable incline. Looking over, the boy could see a small grass field that stopped at a lake and across from that lake was a forest. That was where they used to spend their days before they got separated. Adros called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts.

                “Are you ready?”

                Eiliandir nodded his head, carefully making his way onto the blonde’s back. Once he was on, the man stood straight and adjusted the body on his back along with the knapsack hanging on his arm.

                “Have you put on weight?” joked the dragon.

                “ _Oh ha ha_.”

                Adros chuckled at his lover’s tone but what he couldn’t see was the small smile on the elf’s lips. It was good to know that even after nearly 4 years of separation, the man was still as sassy as ever. The dragon’s green wings collapsed, moving close to him shortly before he dived off of the mountain head first. This action scared the daylights out of the poor freckled boy who was screaming the entire way down. Before the two had gotten too close to the rocky mountainside below, Adros spread his wings wide, gliding over the fields and partially over the lake before slowly turning around and heading back towards the mountain.

                “Goodness Adros! Why would you do such a thing?! You nearly scared the soul out of me!” Eiliandir cried.

                “My apologizes, I could not resist the temptation,” he replied, “But look.”

                Glancing away from the blonde, he could not contain his awe. Below them were acres of hilly grasslands with small patches of trees here and there that stretched forwards for about a mile and a half. There were large sections of orange mixed in with the green, most likely flowers. A wide snaking river ran alongside them and towards the mountains. Following it towards where they were going, the river seemed to border a drop-off of some sort. Flying out more into the fields and mounds of trees, the two spotted a herd of horses grazing below. He had never seen a horse before, only hearing about them in Habadon’s lectures! He couldn’t wait to see them up close. 

                Eiliandir was right about the landscape dropping off along the river, because it did. About ten meter’s from the water’s edge was an abrupt stop in land. The ground went straight down for a few hundred feet until it reached the deep water of the ocean. As terrifying as the drop looked, the ocean was yet another thing that he had yet to see. Who knew that it was so close? Adros flew over the edge of land and over the ocean as he informed the elf that it would take some time to reach their destination and that if at any point he needed to stop, well, they couldn’t.

                The silver haired boy doesn’t remember much between then and when they arrived because he kept dozing off. He was never completely asleep but just under enough to still hold on tightly to the man below him.

                “Eiliandir,” he heard, stirring him, “We have arrived at our destination.”

                Climbing off of the dragon and taking a few steps forward, the elf looked around. There was nothing but large boulders and rocks sticking out the water. In fact, they themselves were on the shore of a small island, a large boulder behind them. Nothing here looked even remotely like a city.

                “I know what you are thinking,” he heard Adros say behind him, “but one can only arrive via boat lest they raise suspicion.”

                Eiliandir hummed as he turned to face the man but paused when instead of seeing the dragon’s normal appearance, he saw plain blonde hair and a lack of wings and tail. The man before him not only was slightly lighter in complexion but had markings on his face and neck. There were three dots following the underside of his eyes and under the dots were fibrous markings shaped similar to tree branches. The ones on his neck started on each side of his mouth and trailed down to the bottom of his neck and between those was a thin, circular marking. The man as wearing a beige shirt with dark beige sleeves, brown-gray pants, and brown lace-less moccasin boots. If the elven boy had facial recognition issues, which he sort of does, then he would probably have run away however one thing screamed who the person was, the light green circlet on around his head.

                “Adros?”

                “Yes?”

                The blonde stood there for a moment, a puzzled look on his face, before figuring out why the elf was giving him a funny look.

                “Oh, I forgot that you are unaware of the fact that I have mastered my magic. I can disguise myself as anything that I so choose.”

                To be honest, Eiliandir preferred the man in his normal form, but if that’s what it took to get inside of the city than he supposed that it was ok. Wanting to move on, Adros asked again if the elf as ready to go. Receiving a yes, the blonde pushed a boat that had been pushed against the boulder into the water. There was a weird cubical contraption on the back of it that dipped into the water, a weird circular pattern on the top of it. He asked what it was, Adros called it a motor. Apparently it uses magic to push them through the water, making oars practically useless. The two got into the boat, Adros putting his hand on the circular pattern, turning on the motor and propelling them through the surface. Eiliandir looked over the edge of the boat, peering into the water and watched as fish swam alongside them. He reached into the water, feeling it move around his hand.

                “Do be careful not to fall in,” warned Adros.

                The elf did not reply but he heeded his warning. They turned and drove between two large boulder islands.

                “We have arrived um... again.”

                As soon as the boy looked forward, his eyes were glued to the landscape, taking in its beauty. The boat entered into a large gateway made of the bouldered gateway, leading to the city. The city itself was covered in buildings of different elevations. They looked to be made of some type of white rock though some were different shades of red and orange. The roofs of nearly every building was wither black or a dark shade of red with dark green scattered on random rooftops. Boats lined the bottom left edge of the floating city. Behind it was a small waterfall that surrounded the entire backside of it. Smaller islands populated with buildings were scattered around on the water’s surface and to the right side was a massive cliff face with waterfalls falling from random sections, dumping into the ocean. A large walkway led to one section of the cliff wall that also housed buildings, greenery filling in the spaces that the buildings did not inhabit. On the left side was flat land that eventually led to snow covered mountains in the distance. The occasional house littered here and there along the green.

                “Welcome to Nilena Edhil.” announced Adros as they moved closer to the city.

                “This… this is amazing!” he exclaimed, leaning on the front of the boat and practically hanging off, “How is it floating?!”

                “If I recall correctly, the founders had used magic to keep it afloat until they were able to secure its foundation in the ground below the water’s surface since it is not very deep here.”

                Adros smiled softly as he watched the elf gush about all of the beautiful features of the city. He was so excitable and he couldn’t wait to show him around.

 

                 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have gone back and changed a few things (well actually all of the chapters got edited a bit but only a few got some worth mentioning)
> 
> Adros has an accent (ch. 2) that sounds like a mix of the Littlehampton area in the UK, the Volda area in Norway, with a touch of stereotypical Irish. It's melodic and slightly rhotic.  
> Also in chapter 2, it was Eiliandir who mentioned that he was in debt not Nestor and the doctor was against it.  
> In chapter 9, it was briefly mentioned that Eiliandir was actually chosen to replace Camaenor as the next village head when the time came.  
> In chapter 13, Eiliandir tells Methendis that he’s leaving the group to distract the dragons not to go back to his hut.  
> And the end of chapter 15 is slightly different as well (mostly I changed the way the city looks because I really love Altissia in Final Fantasy 15. Take the layout of that city but make it look kinda like Novigrad from The Witcher 3 and that's basically how this city looks)
> 
> Also! Igepaya are like acorn squash and glivaple are similar to apples and pears (hence the pome)

                After a scare of Eiliandir nearly falling off the boat in his excitement, Adros parked the boat at a port without incident. The blonde stepped out of the boat before helping his lover out of it while asking asked if he wanted to be carried. When asked as to why he would want to be carried, the dragon replied with the fact that his feet were injured and that walking would most likely irritate the wounds on them. Eiliandir assured the man that he would be fine but should they start hurting, he would definitely accept his offer.

                The two walked out of the wooden port and onto the stone ground of the city. There were a lot of people here. He had never seen so many in one place before, it actually kinda scared him. Eiliandir grabbed a hold of the man’s hand to make sure that they didn’t get separated. As they neared the city interior, he noticed two people stop walking and turn to face them.

                “’ello Uialdor! We ‘aven’t seen ye in forever!” greeted one of the people, “Do ye think yer too good for us?”

              Their accent was extremely similar to Adros' but a bit more archaic.

               “And who is that ye ‘ave with ye?” asked the other one.

                Eiliandir looked at the blonde. Who was Uialdor? Was it an alias? After Adros introduced the men to him and a quick chat, they walked further into the city and up a set of stone stairs. The elf’s face lit up like a kid given a new toy. Everything looked so new, like the entire city had been recently built. This place offered so much to see, so many places they could walk, it was almost overwhelming. As they went along the stone pathways and stairs, many people stopped to talk to the man briefly or said hello as they walked by.

                “You seem to know a lot of people _Uialdor_.”

                “Adros is much too crude of a name for an elf,” hummed the blonde, “And I _should_ know the people here. I do fare from these lands.”

                “You do? Hmm… that _would_ explain your brother’s manner of speech, but yours is not as prominent as the people here.”

                “On the other side of the cliff is dragon territory. Because of the natural barrier, our dialect is not as pronounced as the people here and since I have lived away from the island for over 100 years, it has mostly dissipated,” explained the dragon despite his own accent, “Xilon on the other hand, does not socialize much due to his explosive tendencies which is why his way of speaking is very similar to this area.”

                The two continued to talk as they walked about, looking at the various sights that the city had to offer. Some buildings were dining areas with tables outside, people eating various meals at them. There were small carts with people next to them selling small things like trinkets and snacks. Small rivers bled through the city below, thin and long boats travelled them with a person standing at the rear. Eventually, they reached a small stone cottage near the top of the city. The view from up there was amazing.

                “Before we go in, I would like to inform you that the people inside, although they may seem quirky, are very trustworthy. I owe them my life for taking care of me when I was but a child,” he started quietly, “Other than you, they are the only non-dragons to know of my identity and not seem to care about what I am.”

                With those words, the man opened the door, holding it open for the elf before walking inside himself.  The inside reminded him of Nestor’s hut, herbs and vials of powders on shelves that lined the walls, pots scattered about and makeshift beds everywhere, but this place had stone walls instead of wooden ones.

                “Now, please be sure to apply this every ‘alf of a day for five days,” they heard an old woman inform.

                Walking deeper into the cottage, they saw an old elven couple talking to a young man. The old woman’s long ears pointed out from her gray bun. The old man looked at him, long gray hair swishing ever-so-slightly at the head movement.

                “Oh! Uialdor! What a surprise!” he said.

                According to Adros, the man speaking was named Gwínaer and his wife was Duvaimes.

                His wife looked over and gave a quick greeting with a smile before wishing their patient a good day. She turned towards the two.

               “Oh ‘tis so nice to see ye again! We ‘ave not seen ye—“ the door to the cottage closed, signifying that the patient had left—“IN _AGES_  ADROS! XILON VISITS MORE THAN-“ her eyes glanced over to Eiliandir and all complaints flew out of the door. She gasped, eyes blinking curiously, “Could ye be? Are ye Eiliandir?”

                Her sudden change in demeanor scared him. He didn’t know what to do.

                “Dask, you are frightening him,” chuckled Adros as he placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder for comfort.

                “Forgive ‘er young one. Me wife is a very fervent individual,” laughed Gwínaer.

                “I-It is alright. She reminds me of my mother,” he nervously replied, “And yes, I am Eiliandir. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

               The old woman pinched his cheeks like a grandmother would to a child.

               “Adros was right about ye! Ye really are adorable!” she complimented before noticing the bandages peeking out from his tunic, “Oh! Yer injured?”

               Eiliandir hesitantly nodded his head as he rubbed at his sore cheeks.

               “That is one of the reasons that I have brought him. I was hoping that you could give a better treatment than I did.”

               Gwínaer nodded before asking Eiliandir to follow him. They walked a little deeper into the cottage behind a wooden screen as Adros spoke to Duvaimes. He asked the boy what his injuries were and after telling him, he asked him to remove any clothes that covered them (which was basically all but his shorts) and to sit down on one of the many beds, and walked away. While he was gone Adros walked over and sat down on the bed next to him. The old man came back only moments later with a cup of tea and a basket full of hand-sized leaves.

                “’ere ye go,” the man said, holding out the tea, “’Tis made with the leaves and bark of the Zum tree. ‘Tis great for all of yer swellin’, but it might make ye tired.”

                Giving the tea a sniff, it smelled a lot like camellias and tasting it proved no different. He let out a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding. No offence to Adros but that thyme tea was awful. Gwínaer explained that the leaves in his hands were from the Eethacia tree and they also helped with inflammation, infection, and pain, but putting them on will burn a little. ‘A little’ was a lie; they actually hurt, a lot. Now he understood why Adros had decided come over, rubbing at his thigh for comfort. Eventually, the old man finished with the application of the leaves and took the empty cup and discarded bandages from the freckled boy. He was basically covered in the leaves since he had so many injuries. He and Adros spoke but after a while of that, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open and focusing on the blonde’s words which were quickly turning into a garbled mess. Eventually, the stinging on his body and all of the noises around him to faded into blackness.  

 

 

 

                Awaking to the sound of someone calling him, Eiliandir opened his magenta ringed eyes and looked down towards the foot of the bed at Adros who was running his hand through his silver locks.

                “Hello sleepyhead,” greeted the blonde.

                “Hello,” he smiled sleepily.

                “If you are hungry, Opsola and Dask have made us a late breakfast.”

                His ears perked at the word ‘breakfast’. He sat up, groaning as the blanket around him fell to his waist. Everywhere ached. Was his body healing that fast because of the medicine? He had bandages on so they still must be pretty bad. His foot had also been bandaged. He must’ve gotten stitches.

                “Opsola and Dask?” the boy repeated, still fairly disoriented.

                “It means father and mother,” he smiled, a small huff of air coming from his nose in amusement, “I was referring to Gwínaer and Duvaimes.”

                Adros got off of the bed, holding out a hand for him to take. Eiliandir didn’t want to walk and instead held out both arms, silently asking to be carried. Turning around, the man crouched down, back on the bed until he was between the elf’s legs and grabbed onto them. Once Eiliandir’s arms were on his shoulders, he pulled away and grabbed the boy’s tunic off of the bed before standing and walking up a set of stairs in the back of the room. The stairs led to wooden floors and rugs. There were candles hanging on walls as well as trinkets, most likely from places that the old couple had visited. A table with a bench attached to it sat against a wall next to a fireplace that doubled as a hearth. Adros walked over to the table and sat the boy down before sitting down himself, handing the elf his shirt. On the table was some type of circular thing with triangular pieces missing and a bowl filled with cubes of something orange covered with a coating of something dark brown.

                “What _are_ those things? Are they edible?” he asked as he carefully slipped the tunic on.

                Adros looked at him incredulously. Did he say something wrong? Without a word, the blonde took a fork and stabbed one of the orange cubes, holding it out to the boy’s mouth, urging him to taste it. Stomach growling at the sweet smell coming from it, he opened his mouth.

                “Oh! That _is_ good!” he swallowed.

                “ _That_ , was an igepaya. Opsola likes to chop and cook it with molasses and sugar to make them sweeter.” he explained before motioning to the circular object with the fork, “And that is a glivaple pie.”

                “Glivaple?”

                “It is a pome that grows on trees. It is bitter and essentially inedible but when baked it becomes soft and sweet. The pie is typically served as a dessert but it can also be eaten for breakfast. Igepaya is a gourd that can be eaten in any form,” he explained, “Do feel free to eat as much as you like.”

                As hungry as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything. His world suddenly felt so large. Noticing his weird behavior, Adros asked him what was wrong.

                “’Tis only that… by being here, I understand that I have lived a very sheltered life. I had thought my village to be the standard… that everywhere one would go would be similar. But now I see that I was wrong. There is so much that I have not seen.”

                Putting down his fork, the blonde gently placed his hand on top of the elf’s head, rubbing his silver locks soothingly. In any other moment, his actions would have been seen as patronizing but right now, it felt reassuring.

                “Worry not. You have the rest of your life to explore to your heart’s content. And if there is anything that you do not understand, I will be there with you to help you through it.”

                A small smile graced his lips. Never in his life would he have imagined that there was someone out there that would bond with him so closely. Someone who would love him unconditionally even though the only world he knew was his own small one, patient as they watched him slowly discover the world.

                He was grateful to have fallen in love with someone like Adros.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time sure flies when you'r doing everything else but working on your story.... sorry. School is taking almost all of my free time :( But I suppose the best part about an on-campus job is the super early morning shifts when I get to (hopefuly) work on this!
> 
> Also  
> The ‘ye’ is pronounced more like ‘yeh’ than ‘yee’

                 

                 With their stomachs full of food the two bid the old couple farewell, at least for now, before moving on to their next location. Duvaimes made sure to give Eiliandir a type of walking aid called crutches to help him alleviate the pressure on his stitched foot before they left since he refused to be carried around. The thought of people looking at him while being carried made him nearly faint with embarrassment.

                 After walking down a few flights of stairs and past a bunch of buildings at a fairly leisurely pace due to the awkwardness of the crutches, Adros turned to walk up a small set of doorsteps, carefully helping the elf up. Reaching the top brought them to a fenced in landing that surrounded a reddish stone building. The building wasn’t very wide but what it lacked in width it made up in length. It had a few semi-circular windows and two floors, as most buildings here seemed to have. The blonde climbed the two steps that led to the door and opened it.

                 “This is the place.”

                  Entering the small building to the sound of a bell, Eiliandir looked around in awe. This was a clothing shop! There were tunics, shoes, and leggings as well as dresses and also basically any type of clothing out there on display somewhere inside. And there were so many colors! Deep purples and bright reds, other hues that he’s never seen before.

                 “Please wait jus’ a moment!” they heard from a room in the back.

                Eiliandir, who had never been to a store, was hobbling around looking at all of the fabrics, incredibly tempted to touch them. A tanned woman carrying a basket of clothing walked out from the back, her ice blue eyes scanning the two of them. A deep green hood covered most of her short brown hair and the thin, fibrous markings, similar to Adros’, that started at the bridge of her nose and up onto her forehead. The boy looked at her in awe. Actually, it was more like he looked at her _attire_ in awe. He had never seen a belly shirt before let alone a belly shirt with a hood. And her moss green pants! They were incredibly baggy, almost to the point of looking like a skirt, but the cuffs at her ankles said otherwise.

                “Welcome to Caesura! What can I ‘elp the both of ye with today?” greeted the fair skinned woman.

                “Ava’yorn Vyalan,” greeted the taller man.

                The woman paused, looking at the man intently.

                “Adros!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up, “What a surprise! To what do I owe the ‘onor?”

                “I have come to purchase some clothing for my partner,” explained the man as he looked back at the boy who was once again lost in the sheer amount of clothing.

                But could you blame him? His knowledge of the world was severely restricted due to circumstance. There was so much that he needed to discover. Eiliandir was startled when he heard the woman scream. Whipping his head to the side, he saw Adros holding out a bag, Vyalan, pointing at it in excitement.

                “I-Is that…a _shark_?” she asked, practically drooling.

                “When did you acquire a shark?!” Eiliandir asked, flabbergasted.

                “I merely went while you were asleep in the clinic,” explained the blonde nonchalantly.

                Before he could say anything else, Vyalan snatched the bag, giggling like a madman.

                “Ye can ‘ave anythin’ ye want! Ye may even take most ‘of me stock! And ye!” she exclaimed, looking at the elf, “Follow me!”

                The brunette ran into the back room, the sinister giggling not stopping. Eiliandir looked at Adros skeptically, silently asking him what just happened. He had never seen someone so excited over something like a shark.

                “Well,” the man started, crossing his arms, “Bronze dragons _do_ enjoy shark.”

                “She is a dragon?! I could not tell! Magic truly is an amazing thing.”

                Vyalan stuck her head out from the doorway, urging the boy to hurry up. Giving one last look to his lover for reassurance, he followed her to the back. If Adros trusted her, he supposed that he could too. It was a small room, a set of stairs leading to the second floor in the back corner of the room. There were pieces of fabrics of different sizes and colors scattered around the ground, large spools of thread stacked messily on shelves that lined the room. Considering that she had just brought out a box of clothes, he could only assume that she had recently finished making them.

                “I ‘ope ye will forgive me for behavin’ exceptionally foolish in the other room, I ‘ave not ‘ad shark in ages,” she apologized, the bag of meat missing, “Me name is Vyalan, ‘tis nice to meet ye Eiliandir.”

                “It is nice to meet you as well.” he smiled, “I must say, I may have never been in a shop before but your clothing is nothing like I have ever seen!”

                “Ye ‘ave never bean to a shop?” asked the brunette as she walked to a shelf.

                Eiliandir briefly explained his situation and how he wouldn’t have even know this place existed if it weren’t for Adros. She nodded her head as she returned to his side with a piece of paper and a writing utensil as well as a long, thin paper-like strip with lines on it. She explained to him that she needed to take his measurements so that she could make sure that everything would fit properly. She also asked him to describe himself so that she could better understand how much wear he puts on his clothes. Out of all the things that he said, clumsy was the one she kept coming back to. Clumsy meant constant tears. The clothes would need to be reinforced with stronger magic.

                After writing down all of his measurements, Vyalan looked at Eiliandir’s attire. Humming in thought, she told him to wait there as she ran upstairs. The woman came back down only minutes later with a pile of forest green and black fabric.

                “I am sorry that this actually qualifies as women’s clothin’ but it would look better on ye than that oversized thin’.”

                “Either way, thank you.”

                Vyalan left the room, leaving him to put on what she had given him. Dropping most of the fabric to the floor, he started with the green one, which felt oddly soft. Briefly wondering what type of fabric it was, he held it out to examine.

                ‘What an interesting tunic,’ he thought.

                Instead of being uniform at the bottom, this one had two flaps, each end starting at his hip and going down to his mid-thigh in the front and his knees in the back. The sides were held together by thin strips of black leather, giving it a corset look and showing off his skin. The sleeves were cut off and the collar was large, easily reaching the back of his neck, and curving outwards towards his chest. Once the tunic was on, he picked up the black cloth on the floor, obviously, it was a pair of leggings, but something brown slipped out from underneath them. Bracers! It had been so long since he had worn something like this! Slipping them, the leggings, his shoes and hip satchel back on, Eiliandir slowly walked out the room with his previous outfit crumpled under his hand between the crutch handle and back to where the two dragons were.

                Vyalan was laughing hysterically at a red-faced Adros and when he questioned what had happened, Adros looked at him, eyes pleading to not ask.

                “I ‘ad asked if ye two ‘ave done the dirty yet.”

                Eiliandir’s face heated up in embarrassment. If it was possible to for someone’s head to steam from their face getting too hot, then the elf was certain that his would be at that moment. Adros cleared his throat, trying to change the subject.

                “As brazen as always Vyalan,” he mumbled, “That tunic looks very nice on you Eiliandir.”

                 Muttering a thank you, Vyalan walked over to him and patted him on the back, though it was more like a slap. Thankfully it just barely missed his injury.

                 “I am feelin’ extra generous today. Given yer measurements, none of me current stock will fit ye properly since ye ‘ave an interesting figure… except…, “ she paused, “I do believe that I ‘ave some shoes in yer size. Ye can ‘ave a few pairs of those. I will make… hmm… ‘ow about 4 tunics fer ye? Ye can also pick some leggin’s or pants for yer tunics,” she offered, hand on her chin, “I am assumin’ that ye do not own much so ye can also ‘ave one accessory of ye choosin’. Anythin’ more and ye will ‘ave to buy it,” she offered with a smile, “And ye can ‘ave the stuff that yer wearin’ to, no extra charge. I ‘ave been attemptin’ ta sell that particular tunic for quite some time now.”

                “Is it really alright for me to have all of that?”

                “Yes! And ye can thank yer partner ‘ere for that _delicious shark_. And because I feel like it is a fair trade, I will not take no for an answer! Is there anythin’ ye ‘ad in mind for yer tunics?”

Eiliandir stopped to think. There wasn’t really much that he had in mind. He typically wore a plain-old, normal tunic, nothing like what he was wearing currently. He actually liked the fitted feeling of how this one felt though. He hummed in thought before telling her what was in his head, giving her complete creative liberty. She nodded her head, eyes closed and arms crossed in thought.

“Alright then. I am goin’ to go upstairs and think of some patterns,” she informed, “Now, ye can select everythin’ else out now while I go and do that –I am fairly quick with me clothin’ sketches if I do say so –or wait until the clothes are done. ‘Tis up to ye.”

                Vyalan walked into the back room again, leaving the two alone. Since she was making the tunics, picking out the leggings/pants would have to wait since he didn’t want the colors to be too off. The most he could do right now would be the shoes and accessory. There was so much to look at, he didn’t know where to start. Adros placed a gentle hand on his hip, making the elf look up.

                “Thank you,” Eiliandir blurted before the blonde could say anything.

                “What for, if I may ask?”

                “For doing this for me. You did not need to bring me here and buy… or rather… trade goods for me.”

                Adros cocked his head to the side in confusion.

                “Why would I not do such a thing? If you are going to be staying with me then you need to have belongings to truly make it feel like you live there too.”

                A soft smile graced the freckled elf’s lips as he carefully stood on his tip toes to plant a small kiss on his lover’s lips. Sometimes it was hard being so much shorter than your partner.

                “Either way. Thank you.”

                The two stood there for a bit more before separating to look at some items. To be honest, if they weren’t in a public space, especially _Vyalan’s_ space, Adros wouldn’t have let the elf go, opting instead to ravage his mouth. It’s a good thing that his self-restraint is fairly good. Looking at the small stock of shoes –actually, why does a seamstress have shoes? –Eiliandir eventually picked out a pair of knee-high dark leather boots similar to the ones that he had on since they needed to be replaced and he liked the style of them. He also picked black leather sandals that had strings to wrap around the leg up to the mid-calf (his feet get hot in the warmer months), the other two pairs were a variation of slip-on boots and loafers. To be honest, Eiliandir felt a little guilty for taking a good portion of Vyalan’s stock even though she said it as ok but it wasn’t until he was looking at the last pair of shoes that he threw that thought out of the window. There was a celadon green hooded caplet hanging on the wall. It was longer in the back, had a jagged bottom, and was decorated with fabric of various shades of green to resemble leaves. He _had_ to have it. Adros noticed the intense want in the boy’s eyes.

                “Do you want that?”

                Eiliandir nodded.

                “Well if ye want it, it can count as an accessory.”

                 Vyalan had wonderful timing, walking in just as he spotted it. She asked if he had picked out anything as she handed him a few pages of paper. She told him that these were the rough sketches of potential tunics but it was up to him to pick out colors. Eiliandir looked at Adros, silently asking for help with the color pallet. Even though it had been a long time, Adros had seen Eiliandir in a multitude of colors. Of course, the colors came nowhere near the vibrancy or shades as most of the clothes here but the man did know what would look good on the elf and what wouldn’t. They were all so nice. One of them was long –the notes pointed at the knee, signifying knee length –with short, flowy sleeves, Eiliandir suggested a purpley color since one of the fabrics in the store had caught his eye. Another one was a faux-sleeve, front-tying corset tunic that had a little bit of embroidery on it that made it look like a leaf. He thought about the colors of leaves but none really stood out so he asked her what was her original thought. She looked at him a little funny but replied nonetheless with a burnished amber-like color and after asking what that was, he decided to keep it. The third tunic was similar to the one he currently had on in terms of the lower half except the collar was much shorter and it had sleeves and flower-like buttons. Eiliandir eventually decided for a bright blue with light pink accents and black sleeves. And the final tunic had baggy sleeves, a hood (both with a trim), and a waist belt that tied with a long piece hanging down with cut out shoulders and a long, tapered back down to the thigh. Adros suggested a darker shade of red with a black trim.

                 Satisfied that they got the hard part out of the way and the green light to start working, Vyalan suggested that they pick out the leggings too so that she could make or alter them. He picked out some from the section that she said he could fit, he didn’t want to overwork her. Giving a quick look, he picked out a super dark red pair that was jagged at the mid-calf like a pair of pixie pants, a black pair and a purple pair, and a brown pair that had braided slits up the side of them seemed to work the best.

                  She asked if he had everything that he wanted and after telling her all of the things that he had picked out, she nodded her head. After writing everything down, the brunette asked the two when they were leaving in order or make sure that the clothes were ready in time. Eiliandir wasn’t exactly sure but Adros said they were leaving in a few days. The dragon assured that since she uses magic to make clothes, they should be done before that. Thanking her, the elf smiled warmly. Even though Vyalan seemed to be a little on the crazy side, she was a very nice person. He was glad to have met her.

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

                With Eiliandir’s wounds treated and new clothes in the works, the two set off into town. Adros suggested that since he needed to get a few things, he would also buy some things that the elf wanted and/or needed. The freckled boy did his usual decline but Adros was stubborn on his offer.

                There was so much to see, so many different types of shops to look at. Eiliandir couldn’t wait to see what the city had to offer.

                “Ye there!” the two heard, stopping them in their tracks.

                Looking over, they were met with a tall, long haired dirty blonde man.

                “Do ye want to acquire this archery set?” asked the man, pointing to a bow and a quiver full of arrows lying on the ground.

                The boy _did_ need a new one since it was left in his burning hut. He looked up at Adros, silently telling him that he was going to do it. The blonde knew that they were only talking to him because he was injured and clearly new to the area however he didn’t doubt that he could do it.

                “Be careful, people like these can be devious,” he whispered before speaking normally, “And try not to aggravate your injuries Eiliandir.”

                Giving a reassuring smile, the silver haired elf followed the show-person to a light brown haired elf next to a target.

                “Alright. Now, all that ye ‘ave to do is hit that target. Ye ‘ave three tries and if ye miss then ye get to add to the pile of goods!” he explained, pointing to a small pile near the target. He eyed the elf up and down, rubbing his chin in thought, “Perhaps that satchel of yers will suffice?”

                Agreeing to the wager, he handed the boy a bow as he placed the crutches on the ground. As an archer, there was no way he’d miss. He wasn’t sure what the bow was made of since he had never seen a wood so dark, but the sight-window and the arrow rest was made from a Thany tree, which had a more plain brownish wood. How did they put two different types of tree together? It was a little heavier and longer than his old bow and plucking on the string proved it to be a little tighter than he’d like; typical with a new bow. The blonde man gave him an arrow. His first shot was a test shot, barely missing the center of the target. He looked at the bow with approval. It handled nicely. Whatever it was made out of was flexible but not too flexible to be useless. Handed another arrow, he quickly drew it back and released it. It _would_ have landed dead center but the man next to it pushed the target with his foot at the last second. Stunned, it took him a second to figure out that had just happened.

                “I do not appreciate that sir,” he said sternly.

                “That is ‘ow this game is done! With each try it becomes ‘arder!” laughed the blonde.

                So _that’s_ how it’s gonna be. The brown haired man stood behind the target and picked it up, and started moving around. Narrowing his eyes, he drew the last arrow back. This was just like hunting an animal. Even if you may not be able to tell right away, all of them move predictably and if you couldn’t figure it out then you weren’t eating. The show-person noticed his concentration, stance rigid, ready to strike.

                “So, that man said ye name is Eiliandir huh? What kind ‘uh elf are ye?”

                Distractions? How petty. Not like it would work anyway.

                “I am of mixed race; Moon and Catena.”

                “Catena huh? I ‘ave never ‘eard ‘uh them before!”

                The man continued to ask questions, Eiliandir answering every one as he concentrated. He probably thought that the boy was breaking concentration since he was taking so long to shoot but he was waiting for something. The elf holding the target could only keep up that movement for so long before he got tired. Not only that but he wasn’t exactly moving randomly, making his pattern extremely easy to figure out. People had begun to crowd around them, watching to see if he could do it. The wounds on his back were starting to hurt from the strain, the pain in his foot becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

                 “Waeysey nu ‘eui ‘qsey ‘eui’krir u’krey?” (Where do you fare young one?)

                “Ilyeththaes,” he answered just as he let go of the arrow.

                The arrow struck the bull’s-eye, partially going through the target, scaring the elf who was holding it, “Q’kr auom’qwaeyn yaumm’qirey. (An isolated village) In fact, today is my first day outside of its boundaries.”

                The blonde man looked on in shock. He must’ve been thinking that there was no way that Eiliandir could’ve hit that target. The boy couldn’t have cheated either since he was watching him the whole time, the showmen was at a loss. The man sighed.

                “To be ‘onest, if it were not for yer friend currently glarin’ a ‘ole in me ‘ead, I may ‘ave not kept me word, but a deal is a deal,” muttered the blonde as he walked away towards the brown haired elf.

                He grabbed the few things in the ‘goods’ pile and a quiver full of arrows, practically dumping them onto the freckled elf.

                “These are yers now. _Congratulations_.”

                The two elves left (quite angrily) as well as most of the crowd however before he could walk back over to Adros, someone pulled on his tunic. A small girl stood there, a nervous expression on her face. She looked like she was younger than his cousin Echiel.

                “Um… excuse me,” she called softly.

                She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it, traces of fear mixed in with her nervousness.

                “Is something in here yours?” Eiliandir asked, carefully crouching down to look up at her, “Would you like it back?”

                Her face lit up, shaking ‘yes’ enthusiastically. She explained that her great-grandfather had tried to win the set for her but failed and as a result lost his stone necklace which was a family heirloom. Upon hearing her words, a small shred of anger flowed through him. Those guys went after an old man _knowing_ that he would fail. Rummaging through the small pile, he quickly found it and handed it over. The girl smiled brightly, hugging him before running off. He smiled softly as he watched her run off. He honestly loved children. He’d love to have some of his own one day. A few others approached him before that thought could go any further. He only wanted the archery set so he didn’t mind giving everything back.

                Finally making his way over to his lover who was leaning against a wall, he slid the straps to the quiver over his shoulders, carefully slipping himself between the wood and string of the bow to keep it on him.

                “I had a feeling that you would do that,” Adros said, referring to the acts of kindness.

                “I had only wanted these,” he stated as he shifted his weight on the crutches.

                Noticing the shift, the dragon asked if his feet hurt. He replied that it did, caving and asking to be carried at least for a little while. Once they started moving, their conversation continued.

                 “And you were correct! They _do_ play tricks! Why was he giving away these to begin with if he did not wish to part with them?”

                “Most people have traded archery for the efficiency of magic. I am surprised that the elves in your village are still so skilled in it.”

                “That is simple! We cannot use magic.”

                Adros looked back at him in confusion explaining to him that every elf can use magic, even subspecies like Catena, and Moon elves are masters in it. His words severely confused the boy. Could he actually use magic? And if so, why would everyone say that they can’t? If he ever saw his village people again, he would definitely make sure to ask. As they went, Eiliandir spotted a small curved footbridge and asked to go on it. Adros, of course, agreed and once they were on it, the boy couldn’t help but to look down as it crossed over a small waterfall that poured into the ocean on the side of the city. It was so enchanting to watch it fall. Before he could get too engrossed in it, the two continued on.

                Already back on his own feet, Eiliandir looked into the window of nearly every building that they passed just to see what kind of shop they were and when they went inside he became even more enthralled. There were restaurants, cobblers, jewelers, so many shops! But there was one thing in the window of an accessory shop that made him stop to look at it. On display was a small wooden ocarina necklace. From his perspective, it looked to be playable.             

                “Did that catch your eye?” asked the dragon.

                He nodded his head in response.

                “When I was younger, I would play my father’s ocarina. But then a friend of mine thought it be funny to throw it into the river.”

                “Would you like it?”

                Eiliandir paused. He had already bought so many things for him…

                “N-No… I was only looking...”

                Adros chuckled. It was so obvious that he wanted it. Placing a gentle hand on the elf’s back, he brought the boy into the shop with him. The old shopkeeper, who was reading, stopped to greet them happily. The blonde asked the owner about the necklace in the window.

                “Oh, that old thin’? In the past 150 years, no one ‘as ever paid attention to it. I am surprised that ye want it,” they spoke.

                “I had an ocarina when I was younger,” Eiliandir said shyly, fiddling with his short hair.

                The shopkeeper nodded their head, closing their book before walking over to the ocarina and pulled it off of its display.

                “’onestly, I ‘ave always yearned to hear this played as I am not good with instruments,” they admitted, handing the boy the necklace, “If ye play somethin’ I shall let ye ‘ave it.”

                “Are you certain?”

                They nodded their head, a small smile on their wrinkled face. Leaning further on the crutch for support, he gave a quick examination of the wooden object in his hand. A six-hole, beautifully crafted. It’s a shame that no one before him had wanted it. Giving a quick sound test to get a good idea for a tune, he closed his eyes and began to play. A slow, high pitched tune filled the shop. He used his fingers and tongue to create flutters and cooing sound, mesmerizing the other two in the room. He only stopped when he hit the wrong note, throwing the entire song out of grace, his face flushing red at the screw up. The shopkeeper smiled, saying that it was worth the wait for someone to want it since they got to hear that beautiful song, even if he did mess up towards the end. After a bunch of thank yous, the two left the shop, ocarina around the elf’s neck. Adros had commented on how well he played and would love to hear him play it again.

                Continuing on with their journey through the city, the blonde suddenly shifted their conversation to ask if he wanted anything sweet. As a sucker for sweets himself, he was hoping that the elf would say yes. Agreeing that, yes, he could go for something sweet, Adros led him to a small kiosk to their right. The cart had 6 rectangles on the surface, a cold chill emanating from the different colored substances in them.

                “Which flavor would you like?” Adros asked, pointing to a glass plane above the colored rectangles, “They are written on that.”

                It did, indeed, have _something_ written in multiple colors, however…

                “What does it say?”

                The blonde’s face dropped before filling with a mild irritation. He ran a hand through his hair. At first, Eiliandir thought that his irritation was directed at him…

                “I had a feeling but when you ignored Vyalan’s writings in the drafts to ask for the color but I was hoping that I was wrong. To think that they did not teach you how to read,” he sighed, “Remind me to purchase a few books for you while we are here. Perhaps you will even learn some magic from them.”

                …but instead it was at his village. Eiliandir wasn’t illiterate per se, since he could read Airuri, but now that he thought about it, he was never taught how to read the universal language. Which, when you think about it makes sense; why would they need to teach him something that is mostly found outside of the village when he was never supposed to leave it? Adros told him all of the flavors that they had though he was still unsure of what they were getting. He eventually settled on strawberry, since it was the one that he was most familiar with. The kiosk worker took a large spoon and scooped out the flavor into a cone-shaped object before handing it to them. Eiliandir looked at it wearily. Whatever was in the cone was something between a solid and a liquid and looked like it had an odd texture. Adros urged him to try it. He brought it up to his mouth, the fragrance of strawberry wafting up to his nose, and when he licked a good section of It to keep it from melting on his hand…

                “It is cold!” he exclaimed after swallowing, “But… it is also good!”

                “’Tis frozen custard. I knew that you would like it.”

                Everything that Eiliandir had eaten had been hot foods. The only thing that was cold was foods that were left out. It was definitely a change of pace having something that was meant to be served cold. Adros bought another for himself before paying the kiosk worker for both of their custards. They walked around a bit more as they enjoyed their snacks, the blonde informing him that the cones were edible as well, surprising the elf. Eventually, the sun had set, wooden poles containing light magic illuminated the walk ways, people still roaming about as if it was still daytime. This place was so weird.

                They were on the opposite side of the city from his parent’s shop by the time Adros suggested that they head back. He had an idea though but refused to tell him what it was until they reached their destination. Helping the freckled elf up a bit of stairs, Eiliandir was surprised to see a waterway being held up by large pillars, one of those long boats waiting for someone to ride them. The person standing at the back greeted them, asking if they wanted a ride. The blonde replied they, yes, they do, before helping his lover and himself into the boat. The person standing started the magic motor and they began to cruise along the waterway. The town looked so much different at night, especially from this height. Many building windows were flooded with light, the walkways were also lit up, the people on them looking so much smaller than they actually were. The rivers flowing through the city were dark from the lack of light and the moon shining on the ocean opposite to the cliff illuminated the water and smaller islands. It was absolutely amazing! The boat ride came to an end much too soon but Adros assured him that they could ride them a lot more if he wanted. It was a short walk back to the clinic from there.

                Gwínaer and Duvaimes had prepared a rather lavish meal for the four of them to celebrate not only seeing their son again but also meeting the one that he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. His parents were just as embarrassing as his own but they were nice people. He was glad to call them “step-parents”.

Once dinner was done and everything cleaned and put away, the two went into Adros’ old room and set up for the night. With the two of them alone and no chance for someone to see him, Adros took off his shirt and released his magic, tail and wings springing from his backside as well as his other draconic features. The blonde stretched his back and wings, moaning about how good it felt to move them, causing the elf, who was sitting on the bed, to chuckle.

                “What is so funny?”

                “Oh nothing,” he continued to chuckle, “But do hurry and come to bed.”

                “That is something a wife would say,” laughed Adros, causing the elf’s cheeks to redden.

                Nevertheless, the blonde walked over to the bed and sat down only to be tackled by the silver-haired boy, arms around his neck and halfway on his lap. Taking it a step further, the dragon pulled the elf completely onto him so that he was sitting perpendicularly to him.

                “Thank you for today… or rather everything that you have done for me,” he thanked, “I have not had that much fun in ages.”

                “You do not need to thank me. Seeing you happy is merit enough.”

                Eiliandir’s cheeks further reddened, a small pout on his features. Adros lowered his head to touch his forehead with the elf’s.

                “Must you always spout such embarrassing words?”

                “Of course. I love you.”

                He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

                “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you guys want but you gotta be patient! I promise you though, it's already typed out but waiting in the queue!
> 
> The song that Eiliandir plays on the ocarina is a variation of Theme of Love > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FM8y3Adu4VA  
> Airuri is spoken in a polish accent but it has the latin ‘kr’s  
> The universal language is one that basically everyone knows (like scientific names as they are universal) since there are so many languages.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in this chapter! School has been incredibly rough with me lately :(

 

                Adros stayed true to his word and got Eiliandir a few books while they were out the next day. He had bought a learner’s guide, a children’s book, a short story, and a grimoire, all of which were technically picked by the elf since the dragon briefly explained their contents to get approval. The two had stopped at a small eatery for lunch when Eiliandir suggested that they get a head start on learning, eager to read the grimoire to learn how to perform magic. Of course, being as enthusiastic as he was, he immediately opened up the magical book.

                “You must not be this ambitious if you wish to learn to read,” chuckled Adros, “That is why I purchased the learner’s guide.”

                “I am aware, merely curious,” he replied, only half listening to his lover’s advice before pointing at a page that looked interesting, “What is this?”

                The blonde leaned over, careful not to knock over his bowl of soup as he did, and read the page.

                “’Tis lightning magic,” he replied. Adros twirled one of his fingers, on the tip of it was a small spark of lightning that fizzled out rather quickly. “I would show you more but as you can see I am not proficient at it.”

                “ _You?_ Incompetent with something? The world must be _ending_ ,” Eiliandir mocked with a giggle.

                “I will have you know that magic is a very difficult skill to learn,” said Adros, matter-o-factly as he took the grimoire and replaced it with the learner’s guide, “But before you learn magic you must first learn to _read_.”

                The two spent a good while going over the book, Eiliandir learning the alphabet fairly quickly but unsurprisingly having a difficult time reading words since they could be pronounced in many different ways. Eventually, Adros decided to call it a day since they had been at the eatery for quite some time and the chairs there were starting to become uncomfortable. On their way out, Eiliandir overhead a couple talk about something called an Aesranium, in fact, quite a few people were talking about it amongst themselves.

                “’Twould seem that it bloomed early this year,” Adros said out of the blue.

                “I beg your pardon?”

                “Aesranium,” he started over, “is a very large plant that only grows here on the mountain side. It only blooms for 2 weeks and when it does, the city puts together a small festival celebrating it.” Eiliandir was going to ask _why_ they celebrate a flower but Adros beat him to it. “The exact reason as to why the people here do that is lost to history but the theories range from it helping the founders finish building the city due to its healing properties to it being a mystical being that only awakes once a year. But as I said, it has bloomed early. It typically blooms once the warmer days are constant but it’s still fairly cold, pushing the festival to tonight. Perhaps it did so just for you. The festival is quite the sight to see.”

                “I doubt that it bloomed for me,” the elf laughed, “however, this ‘festival’ does sound interesting.”

                Adros continued to graze over the details. Because it is such a rushed thing, the festival really only happens at night. People make paper flowers in the likeness of Aesranium and use magic to light them up at night and release them into the air. The most common location to do so is on the water since it is the best place to view them floating away.

                “Is it safe to release all of that paper into the area?”

                “They are made of a material that degrades in the presence of magic. None of it makes it out of the city.”

                Since they were out, the two stopped by a shop that sold such a paper. Apparently that paper is a common magical item as they can be used to deliver secret messages and destroyed quickly. The shop was crowded as everyone had the same idea. Eventually, Adros was able to buy a stack of colored paper before they were able to head back to the clinic. The blonde showed Eiliandir how to fold the papers _just_ right and how to put them together to get the shape of the flower. It was amazing how it didn’t need any binding agent yet it took so much paper. After many failed attempts, the elf finally got a decent shape. The large, heart shaped purple leaves supported a dark orange flower while Adros’ flower was dark silver. As they were admiring their work, one of the dragon’s foster parents came up the stairs, eyes drifting to them at the table.

                “Oh! The two of ye have returned!” exclaimed Duvaimes, “Since ye are ‘ere, will ye allow me to observe ye wounds to make sure that they are ‘ealin’ properly?”

                “Certainly.”

                The old elven woman noticed the flowers on the table while Eiliandir removed his shirt with a bit of help, allowing her to unwrap the burns and look at them.

I see that ye are attendin’ the festival,” she observed. The bandages had stuck to his skin, making the removal of them slightly painful. Duvaimes hummed, “I am positive that ye will love it if Adros is bringin’ ye.”

                “Are you participating as well Dask?”

                “Mmhmm. Yer father and I are releasin’ our flowers by the store front. If ye two are goin’ to yer usual location then it should give us plenty of time to prepare dinner–“ she finished her examination— “Yer wounds are ‘ealin’ well.”

                The woman asked about his other injuries, most notably the stitches in his foot. He wasn’t allowed to wear his boot but in its place was a wool sock to keep his foot warm. The sock also allowed for easy access to the injury which proved useful for times like this. With Duvaimes nodding her head in approval, she suggested that he keep his clothes off for a little to let his skin breathe before bidding them a good day and continued on with what she was going to do before she ran into them.

                Adros and Eiliandir waited until the sun was starting to set to leave the home to go down to the docks. Garland and other decorations lined the city’s walkways, adding to the flair. They had decorated the city fairly quickly. It was commendable. There weren’t many people out on the water yet so they weren’t in a rush. After helping the elf into the boat with his crutches and the flowers and getting in himself, the two set off far enough away to see the city but not far enough that they can’t see each other once it’s dark. They passed the time by talking about whatever came to mind, small gaps of comfortable silence between conversations. Once the sun was down, Adros figured that it was time to get ready.

                “I need you to close your eyes and imagine that you are holding a ball,” he instructed as he held the elf’s hand, “One that is heavy but also light.”

                “How does one imagine such a thing?”

                “Every person interprets it differently. Merely try your best.”

                As Eiliandir thought, Adros placed a small ball of light in the elf’s hand and tried to leave it there. It took many attempts before the light stayed instead of dissipating. It was unstable but held nonetheless.

                “You are doing great. Continue to keep that sensation in your mind,” he said, “Now, open your eyes.”

                Hot pink eyes opened at the blonde’s command, lighting up with amazement at the sight of the orb of light in his hand.

                “Did I make this?” he gasped, the ball rapidly losing its structure.

                “No.” He grabbed at the elf’s hand again, once again stabilizing the orb. “But if you are not careful you will lose the ability to hold it.”

                “Alright!” exclaimed Eiliandir, “What am I supposed to do with this light?”

                “It is put into the center of the flower. The light is weightless and anything it touches becomes lighter than the air, allowing them to float.”

                Within the next minute, a loud horn sounded in the air. It was time. Adros held up his flower and lit it, Eiliandir doing the same before letting them go. The elf looked towards the city and gasped. Thousands of papers with dark silver, yellow, dark orange, and light silver flowers filled the sky, a delicate smell filling the air. Some that didn’t have enough magic floated downwards towards the water’s surface beside them. It was such a pretty sight. Adros reached over and gently pulled Eiliandir between his legs, holding him close as they watched the papers float through the sky. All too soon the flowers started to release white sparks as they burned away, clearing the sky and water of any traces of the festival, once again blanketing them in darkness, only illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights.

                “That was amazing!” exclaimed the elf as he looked behind him to his lover, “Tha-

                His words were cut off by the blonde’s lips catching him off guard. That surprise was short lived as he melted into the kiss, returning just as slowly as he reached back to pull the man closer. The kiss was short-lived, pulling apart to stare at the other’s face.

                “I am glad that you enjoyed it,” said Adros, still breathless.

                “The festival or the kiss?”

                “Yes.”

                Eiliandir laughed. He loved this man.

  



	20. Chapter 20

 

                Eiliandir awoke with a start, his body covered in a light sweat. Gently pulling himself from his sleeping lover’s embrace, he sat up and rubbed his face. He needed fresh air. Thankfully, the second floor had a balcony. The elf quietly hobbled out of the room and made his way to the door that led outside. The cool breeze calmed him, though not as much as he would like. There were still a few people wandering around outside. How late was it? Looking up didn’t exactly help since the brightness of the stars were drowned out by the light magic surrounding the city. Jumping at the feeling of arms around his waist, he relaxed when he heard a familiar yawn.

                “Whas troublin-you?” slurred Adros tiredly.

                He didn’t answer right away.

                “I… I had a nightmare… I relived everything from the other day,” his voice started to shake, his eyes burning with tears as the blonde tightened his hold on the boy, “There were so many bodies, so many severed limbs and viscera lying on the ground. And in the end, I was not saved by you nor had I escaped with the rest of my villagers. Instead, I had been caught,” he grabbed at his elbows, “I-I was so scared! I had fought to escape, I had tried everything! But-But nothing worked!” his grip tightened, turning his knuckles white, “They did not kill me slowly… they took their time… they… _humiliated_ me…”

                Adros turned the elf around and hugged him properly, whispering into his ear to soothe him. ‘It’s ok, it’s just a dream’, you’re safe now’. Eventually, Eiliandir did calm down, eyes heavy from the tears.

                “Are you feeling better?” receiving a nod, he suggested that the two head inside.

                He went back to the room with a heavy mind. He knew that no one had been buried. He needed to go back but he was aware that Adros would be against it since he was still healing. He would have to sneak off when they got back; this needed to be done.

 

 

 

                 “Aw, must ye be goin’ so soon?”

                “Yes, unfortunately we must return. But I promise that we shall return soon,” said Adros, currently in his elven form.

                The two stood in front of the old couple with their belongings ready to go. Adros explained that it was a long journey back home so it would be best to leave early. The parents were understandably disheartened since they were only around for a few days but also sympathetic as they knew it would take a long time to get back. Gwínaer made a noise as if he forgot something and asked Adros for his bag. The blonde didn’t question it and handed him the bag. He returned shortly after with it much fuller than before. A quick look inside showed that it was full to the brim with herbs and random foods that can be left out without spoiling including lembas, a cake-like bread that Eiliandir has grown rather fond of.   

                “Please be sure to visit more! When ye are gone for a lon’ time we worry!” exclaimed Duvaimes.

                The two hugged Adros before hugging the elven boy just as affectionately.

                “And it was so nice to meet ye son!” smiled Gwínaer.

                “Son?”

                “Naturally!” they both said before Gwínaer finished, “Adros chose ye as his partner. That makes ye our son as well!”

                Eiliandir had to admit that it felt weird to be called ‘son’ by someone who wasn’t his parents but… he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him happy. After giving their final goodbyes, the two headed off to Vyalan’s shop to retrieve the ordered clothes and say goodbye. When they arrived, Vyalan had just finished laying out the clothes she had made, claiming that she wanted the boy to try them on to make sure they fit properly. It was amazing how quickly she finished the tunics considering it takes his villagers a couple of weeks just to make a simple tunic. Who knew that magic could be so versatile? After trying on the clothes (with Adros’ help, and they all fit perfectly!) and a short conversation, the two gave a final goodbye, they set off back to the cave.

               

 

 

 

 

                Finally back from Nilena Edhil, the two unpacked their belongings and took some time to relax. The flight back had been prolonged due to a small storm over the ocean, forcing them to go around it. Had Eiliandir not been with Adros, the man would have flown through it.

                Remembering the dream he had as he put his new belongings away, the freckled elf was reminded of what he needed to do.

                “Hei Adros?” he called, walking into a room two doors over, “I am going to go for a walk alright?”

                The dragon, who was organizing the herbs from his parents, looked at him with apprehension.

                “I know, I know. I should not be walking. But I have my crutches and shall not go far,” he pleaded, “Also, no, you do not need to accompany me. I will be fine.”

                “Alright. I cannot keep you here,” sighed the blonde, “Do be careful.”

                Happy that he got his way, Eiliandir walked over and pecked his lover on the lips, giving a final goodbye, before leaving the cave through the opening on the mountainside. The opening wasn’t very large, maybe only about as tall as Adros was, perhaps a little shorter, and wide enough only to accommodate the dragon’s wings, probably so that its location stays hidden. Before he headed back to his village, he wanted to check out the area. Stopping at the bottom of the mountain, he stopped to admire the scenery. The field before the lake looked much bigger now that he was standing in it. Walking through the grass, he stopped to look at the early spring flowers that he would occasionally see. There were snowdrops, daffodils, irises, so many types that it was actually kind of hard to keep track. And actually, they looked deliberately placed. Did Adros plant these? Looking to his left, he noticed a small snaking river leading from the lake to behind the mountain. Deciding to follow the river led him between the large mounds of rock…

                “Whoa…”

                A waterfall! Not as large or magnificent as the ones in Nilena Edhil but it was still a waterfall nonetheless. If he wasn’t covered in bandages he would’ve jumped in. This would be a great place to bathe. Eiliandir went to move closer but upon walking around a bend, paused when he saw someone crouched by the pool of water. Red eyes looked in his direction, freezing him on the spot. Adros had told him that all should be well, but he wasn’t sure if this particular dragon would abide to those words.

                “Relax,” mumbled Xilon, “The entire clan is under strict rules not to harm ye in any way. ‘e especially made it known with me. And considerin’ ‘ow protective ‘e is over ye, it would be best to leave ye be.”

                The orange-haired man visibly trembled at the thought. Eiliandir wondered what the blonde could’ve said or done besides what he did before to make him act that way.

                “ _Anyway_ , I… I wanted te apologize.” Xilon struggled to get his words out, cheeks tinging pink in embarrassment, “I ‘ad only acted the way that I did that day because I was havin’ problems and went to Adros for ‘elp. I was irritated and took me anger out on ye. Me behavior was ill-favored and that was wrong of me.”

                Eiliandir looked on in shock. Was he hearing things? The same dragon that was literally dripping with malice, the one who was ready to burn him to death was apologizing? Now that he thought about it, he no longer left those vibes from him. Maybe he’s telling the truth.

                “If truth be told… I do not believe you to be as bad as you make yourself seem Xilon,” he smiled softly.

                In fact, he was the opposite. The man seemed to be kind-hearted. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

                “W-Wha-huh?!” he sputtered in response, face almost completely flushed, “I beg yer pardon!” Xilon paused, abruptly changing the subject, “In any case, since ye are ‘ere, that insinuates that so is ‘e. That is good.”

                The red dragon gave a quick goodbye before flapping his wings and fleeing. Giving a small chuckle, the elf turned around and headed back towards the lake to begin his journey to the village. Crossing the field in front of the mountain, he entered the forest that surrounded the side of the lake. The dead look of all of the deciduous trees made the woods look a little eerie but it gave him so much more visibility without all of the leaves blocking his view. After hobbling for roughly a half hour, he arrived at the other side of the lake, finally reaching familiar territory. Nearly there, it didn’t take him much longer to reach the destroyed village. Eiliandir instantly regretted his decision to come back. The stench of decomposing organic matter nearly made him gag. There was dried blood, entrails, and body parts as well as half eaten elves strewn about. Some were burned alive or struck by the blue dragons’ lightning. Nearly everything that his people had made, the huts, the tables, etc. had been destroyed. There was no way that he could leave all of his fallen brethren on the surface to rot, especially since that’s the reason why he came. Thankfully, the small shack where they had kept all of their larger and excess equipment had only collapsed instead of burned. Moving the heavy slabs of wood out of the way, he picked up a shovel and got to work.

                Many hours had passed. After placing long blades of grasses and flowers on the graves and praying for them to rest peacefully in the afterlife, he walked over to the garden and picked a few things to eat since he hadn’t eaten and to grow at the cave. This had been more emotionally taxing than he had thought. Seeing the familiar faces –or in some occasions body parts –made his eyes tear over as he thought about the times they spent together. One of them was his aunt, Túon’s wife and Echiel’s mother. He hoped that they were doing ok. After gathering what he wanted, he sat down on the ground and stared at the dull blue sky. The sun would be setting in a few hours. He would need to head back within the soon to avoid being in the dark. Hearing a low yip, he turned his head.

                “You three!” Eiliandir exclaimed as the foxes, Eusella, Bufo, and Lontra, approached him, “The village is no more. What brings the lot of you here?”

                Bufo yipped, gaining his complete attention. He’s not one for vocalizing. Something was wrong. Sensing that he understood, they began to trot into the woods. Following behind, he couldn’t help but to wonder that the issue was. He arrived to something that he dreaded since day one. Buteo was on the ground on her side, barely breathing.

                “Buteo!” cried Eiliandir as he fell to his knees beside her, ignoring the shooting pain up his legs.

                The fox’s eyes opened slightly as a weak yip escaped her snout.

                “Shhh. Save your energy.” he shushed, petting her head gently.

                He had forgotten about a fox’s lifespan; they only live for about five years and it had been over six since he met the animal. She didn’t have much longer.

                “Thank you for bringing me here. I will stay with her until the very end.”

                Seeming to understand, the young foxes all sat down. They all patiently waited as the elderly fox slowly faded. The sky was a brilliant mix of orange, pink, and blue once she had finally passed on and properly buried. More tears streamed down his face. The three gave him a head-butt and a rub before going their separate ways. With their mother and the village gone, he was unsure if he would see them again. Finally mustering the strength to stand with his crutches, the elf began his trek back to the mountain. It was nearly completely dark by the time that he made it back. Not wanting to go inside just yet, he sat down in the field and looked at the reflection of the waxing crescent moon on the water’s surface.

                “There you are!” he heard.

                Looking forward, he watched as his lover landed before him. Before Adros could say another word, tears started streaming down his freckled cheeks. Startled by the sudden waterworks, the blonde went on to his knees and cradled the boy’s face is hands, wiping a tear away.

                “Why do you cry?” he asked softly, worry laced in his voice, “Did something transpire in my absence?” 

                “I-I had returned to my village t-to lay my fallen brethren to rest… and Buteo…!” he cried. He couldn’t finish his sentence, voice cracking from the strain, “I-I believed that I could handle it, but I could not! ‘Twas too much!”

                Adros huffed, slightly relieved that it wasn’t as serious as he thought it may have been and hugged the boy tightly while stroking his back, slowly calming him down. Wiping the leftover tears from his lover’s eyes, he spoke.

                “I can assure you that everyone is in a much better place now and I am certain that they are very grateful to you for laying their bodies to rest. You did a good thing,” he consoled. Adros paused. “The moon is rising, would you like to come inside for dinner?”

                “No. I would like to stay and observe the stars for a while. Is that alright?”

                The blonde’s eyes shined with hesitance but he knew how hard it was to change the elf’s mind on anything. The dragon nodded his head as he moved to stand however was stopped by Eiliandir’s hand grabbing his own in a silent plea not to leave. Giving a soft smile, Adros sat down next to him. Eiliandir shifted his body so that he sat between his lover’s legs, back on his chest. The blonde in turn rested his chin on the elf’s silver locks. The sky was free of any clouds and there was barely any light coming from the crescent moon; it was perfect for stargazing. After some time, Eiliandir noticed a large cluster of stars.

                “Adros?”

                Gaining a noise of acknowledgement, he continued.

                “Do you see the luminous star over there?” he asked, pointing upwards, “’Tis next to the three slightly dimmer ones?”

                Yellow-slitted green eyes followed the tanned arm to the star.

                “Is there something special about it?”

                “If I remember correctly, the star is a part of something called a constellation named Celestina.” he started, “From what I had been told, many thousands of years ago, there was a ruler of these lands named Ramphastos. The ruler was very kind-hearted but his right-hand man, Elion, did not care for the person for which he served. He was scheming to perform patricide and create a land that fitted his image; evil, vile, and dark. One of Ramphastos’ gardeners, Celestina, had caught wind of his plans and managed to kill Elion moments before he murdered their ruler. Ramphastos was so incredibly grateful to her, he put her in the sky among the stars. The legend says that Celestina was a very beautiful woman and so he rearranged the sky to ensure that she would only contain the brightest of stars.”

                Eiliandir continued to ramble about the other few constellations in the sky. Wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist, the blonde let him speak. He knew that a major distraction for the elf was the stars. Of course, there were only so many figures in the sky and when he ran out, he fell silent. Adros didn’t dare speak a word. The elf leaned his head on the dragon’s shoulder and just watched the seemingly motionless sky. Slowly but surely, Eiliandir had fallen asleep, head lolling to the side. Being sure not to wake him, Adros carefully brought him inside.

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

                Hot pink and magenta eyes cracked open to the sun shining brightly on them. Blocking the blinding rays with his hand, he heard the sound of children’s laughter. He paused. The sun couldn’t reach the area where the two slept… and why could he hear children? Fully opening his eyes, Eiliandir realized that he was not in the cave with Adros, but rather, back in his hut. Dumbfounded, he got out of the hay filled bed and stepped outside. He was stupefied. Everything was exactly the way that it had been a few days ago. All of the structures were upright, there were no scorch marks or puddles of acid on the ground. Everyone was still bustling about and prepping their workstations, the children were running around playing and best of all, _no one was dead_. Was everything that happened just a dream? Was it a premonition? Either way, it was heartwarming to see all of his people again and in one piece but at the same time heartbreaking to not be with his partner anymore. This whole thing was bittersweet to say the least.

                After putting on a simple tunic and leggings with a pair of flats, Eiliandir walked over to the wavy haired elf who was pulling out various tools and blades wrapped in cloth.

                “What might you be doing Eiliandir?” asked Túon, “I gave you today to rest, had I not?”

                “Oh… had you?” he asked, in a daze, “Would it be alright if I worked anyway?”

                His uncle laughed.

                “I see what is happening here. You believe me to be too _old_ to work alone!” he chuckled, “Well let me tell you that I am _more_ than capable of handling the small amount of work that needs to be done. Now, go and prepare yourself for breakfast!”

                Listening to his words, Eiliandir walked away from the blacksmith. The meal was mostly vegetables, fruits, fish, and a broth. Eating the food in a stupor, he never stopped to think about why he couldn’t taste anything. Everything just seemed so surreal to him. While he was cleaning his dishes, the objects disappeared from his hands. Everything happened so fast. He barely had time to notice the wall of fire surrounding him.

                “Eiliandir!” he heard, alerting the freckled elf.

                He looked behind him. An elven woman stood there. She was missing an arm and was severely burnt. Her face conveyed the sheer amount of pain that she was in.

                “Help us! Please!” begged someone else.

                Whipping his head to face the new voice, he saw a small child, missing the lower half of their body, clawing towards him.

                “Why will you not help us?!”

                Suddenly surrounded by people, the silver-haired boy looked around frantically. Everyone who was surrounding him was someone he had buried. What was going on? What did they want?!

                “Why did you _abandon_ us Eiliandir?!”

                “I would never do such a thing!” he defended.

                “Then why did you leave us to die?!”

                “I- I would never do such thing!” he defended, “I arduously bade to rescue everyone but did not arrive in time to prevent any deaths! I ensured that no one was forgotten in order to compensate for my negligence!”

                All of the elves weren’t hearing it, yelling all sorts of malicious words: abandoner, cruel, some future-leader you are, _how could you?_ _How **dare** you?_ He covered his hears, slouching onto the floor. How could they say these things? They all treated him so kindly and yet they were spewing these words like they were holding them in all this time. His world was spinning.

                “Please cease this! I do not know what I may have done to incur your wrath but I would never hurt my people!” he begged.

                They did not stop, instead choosing to enclose around him. They didn’t care if he was crying as he begged to be forgiven. They wanted him to hear them, they wanted to take him with them. Their hands grabbed at him, pulling on his hair and clothes, scratching at his skin. He tried to get away but their grip was too tight. He was scared. He screamed.

                **“Eiliandir!** ”

                Watery eyes snapping open to a dimly lit cave, he was relieved to see that it was only a bad dream. It… _was_ just a nightmare right? They couldn’t possibly mean everything that they said… could they?

                “Hei. Are you alright?” he heard Adros ask softly.

                Somewhat eased by the blonde’s voice, he sat upright at his words. His mind was blank but through his daze he could feel the familiar burn of tears beginning to form.

                “You started screaming. I was worried-

                Once his tears started to fall, there was no stopping them. Wiping them away proved to be futile as more tears replaced the ones that he brushed off. Trying to calm his lover, Adros hugged the elf and whispered softly into the dim light. The blonde’s contact pulled his mind out of the haze, filling it with a jumble of thoughts. He returned the hug just as tightly and whimpered, laying his head on the dragon’s shoulder. Every time Eiliandir thought he was close to being ok again, his mind would be flooded with thoughts of his villagers. Did they hate him since the beginning? Do the deceased truly blame him for their deaths? It took a long time for him to still his mind and sit up on his own. He was thankful that Adros didn’t pull away until he was ready. Seeing the leftover tears on the freckled cheeks, Adros cradled the elf’s face and thumbed the remaining wetness away.

                “Are you alright?” he asked again gently. His face was soft and full of worry.

                Placing a hand over the dragon’s scaly hand, he slightly nodded his head.

                “I apologize for waking you… and I am sorry for crying so much as of late.”

                “Nonsense. You have been through a traumatic event. ‘Tis only natural for you to act as you do.”

                Giving a small yet sad smile, Eiliandir looked down, releasing his hold on the blonde’s hand. After placing a quick kiss to his lover’s forehead, Adros informed him that there were still a couple more hours left until the sun came up and asked if he wanted to try to go back to sleep. To be honest, Eiliandir wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of sleeping anymore as he didn’t want another nightmare. He’s had so many lately. The elf looked over at Adros. He could see the grogginess in his lover’s eyes and knew that if he didn’t want to go back to sleep then the blonde wouldn’t either. He didn’t want him to lose sleep because of him so he agreed to the idea. The two laid back down, Adros drifting back off relatively quickly, his hold on the elf loosening ever so slightly with his lack of consciousness. Eiliandir laid there for what seemed like hours, his mind still a jumbled mess. Eventually his thoughts stilled for long enough for sleep to pull him under as well.

 

 

 

                After a while, Eiliandir had slowly returned to his normal self, just as carefree as always. Spring had fully arrived and the leaves and spring-blooming flowers were emerging from their slumber. This would be a great time to see the landscape while everything was still developing. But first, he needed to clean himself. His wounds have healed enough for him to be able to bathe properly without causing too much pain. It’s hard to clean yourself when water hurts your skin.

                Arriving at the waterfall between the mountains, Eiliandir removed his satchel. Adros had bought him some interestingly scented soaps and a pumice stone since he no longer had any. Placing the objects, including the satchel, near the water’s edge, he removed his caplet, burnished amber tunic, leggings, and shoes. The water was surprisingly warm even though it was early spring and the air was still quite cold. After scrubbing himself with the soap and stone, Eiliandir walked into the water to finish the job. The roar of the water was all that he could hear as he treaded beside it. The falls were only about twice as long as him and maybe as wide as he was tall but it was still pretty cool.

                Noticing a dark spot behind the falling water, the elf swam around it.  There was a hole in the rock wall! It was a little high but if he climbed a little he could reach it. Once inside, he followed the path. The ceiling was high enough to stand straight and still have room left and even if he put his arms out he wouldn’t touch a wall. The path curved upwards and to the left, making it hard to see what was in front of him. He was still naked, which made him vulnerable to whatever was in here. At the end of the path was a tapestry and poking it proved that there was nothing behind it. Actually… the fabric looked awfully familiar. Moving it to the side, he was surprised to see the inside of the cave where the pool of water and plants were. This must’ve been a secret exit. Noting that in the back of his mind, Eiliandir walked back towards the waterfall and got dressed.

                Now that he was clean and clothed, his next objective was to try to see the unicorns that he saw in the fields behind the mountains. He was determined to see them, even running until his legs threatened to give out, muscles burning, begging him to stop. Slowing, the elven boy panted as he leaned against a tree. Maybe he shouldn’t have ran for so long. The burning in his lungs and legs as well as the slight bit of pain in his almost healed foot were punishment for being so impatient. Deciding to continue once his breathing evened out, Eiliandir exited the hilly forested area.

                In the distance of even more hills, he could sort of make out the herd of unicorns by the river. He still had a bit more to travel. Opting to walk instead of run, he took the time to enjoy the view from a lower perspective. The hilly plains seemed to be so much larger and hilly now that he was at ground level. Not much longer after, he had gotten close enough to the unicorns. All of them were a myriad of colors; some were black, some were white, others were gray, brown, or a mix.

                Not wanting to spook the animals, he moved slowly. All of the unicorns stopped what they were doing and looked at him when they noticed his presence, ears pointed forward in alertness. Setting his sights on a beautiful black-haired brown and white stallion, he made his way to that one. He figured that going for a female might have been a bad idea since there was a chance that the males were protective of them.

                “Hello there.” Eiliandir cooed, slowly inching forward.

                The unicorn didn’t move, choosing instead to stand its ground. Keeping an eye of the stallion’s body language, the elf cautiously approached the unicorn as he gently spoke to the animal, reassuring them that he wasn’t going to hurt them. Once he was within an arm’s distance, he reached his hand out and touched its lower neck.

                “What soft hair you have.” he whispered in awe, gently stroking its neck.

                Holding his hand out to the unicorn’s nose, he let the animal sniff him to gain his scent. By now, the rest of the herd had lost interest once they realized that he posed no threat. Once the unicorn’s ears relaxed and its lower lip loosened, he knew that it was alright to continue to pet the animal. Running his hand through the unicorn’s mane, his other hand rubbed at the jowl. The stallion pushed his face into the boy’s hand, seeming to enjoy the affection. Eyes sparkling with happiness, Eiliandir eagerly obliged.

                After greeting every unicorn in the pack, all of the unicorns had visibly relaxed, seeming to not mind his presence anymore. Laying down on the grass, Eiliandir chuckled at the long blades tickling his face as he closed his eyes. He remembered being taught that his ancestors used to ride unicorns, training them to come when they whistled. If he ever wanted to do that he would need to be around the animals enough to gain their trust.

                The sound of hooves quickly hitting the ground in retreat made him open his eyes in curiosity. As he watched the unicorns flee he wondered why they were leaving in such a hurry. Should he run away too? Glancing in the opposite direction, joy filled his veins.

                “Adros!” he called, waving his arms.

                The dragon noticed the flailing limbs on the ground and changed his course of flight. Gracefully landing in front of the elf, he was almost immediately tackled into a hug, ‘oofing’ at the impact.

                “I thought that you might have been over here,” Adros thought aloud, loosening his hold.

                “I had very much wanted to see the unicorns up close since I have never seen one before. They were amazingly friendly and I was able to greet all of them!”

                “So I take it that you enjoyed yourself?”

                “Indeed!”

                Smiling, Adros kissed his lover’s forehead. Unsatisfied with just a small forehead kiss, the elven boy tilted his head and connected his lips with the taller man’s. Hands holding onto the other body pulled and caressed, innocent gestures escalating, leaving them both wanting more.  

                “We… should return home,” shyly suggested Eiliandir.

                “I rather like that idea.”

                The elf’s stomach filled with butterflies. He agreed this time! He didn’t say no! Adros swiped him off of his feet, choosing to hold him bridal style instead of on his back. It didn’t take them very long to return to the mountains.

 

                                               

                                               


	22. Chapter 22

                Arriving at the cave, Adros gently placed Eiliandir onto his feet before walking deeper inside, leaving the elf alone. Confused, he hastily followed after the blonde.

                “Adros? Where might you be going?”

                “I have not tended to the garden in a while,” replied the dragon, “Is something of the matter?”

                “But I-… I believed that we…” he trailed as he stopped walking, cheeks flushing pink.

                Did he misinterpret what the dragon meant earlier? Adros repeated the last few words of the elf’s sentence, edging him on. He started to play with strands of his silver hair.

                “Are we… are we not going to… you know?” Eiliandir asked quietly as he looked away.

                “Sorry, I could not quite hear you.”

                Eiliandir peeked at the blonde, noise of distress slipping past his lips. His cheeks and ears became increasingly pinker as he struggled with his words.

                “… Are we not going to make love?” he repeated, slightly louder, daring to keep his gaze on the man despite his burning face.

                “ _Ooh_. Is that what you had wanted? You had not specified your desires when we had left the plains,” teased Adros, a hand on his hip.

                The elf’s eyes narrowed in irritation, crossing his arms in front of his chest. That cheeky bastard. He should’ve known that the man was teasing him. Adros chuckled.

                “Seen through my ploy already? Such a shame.”

                Placing his scaly hand on the boy’s freckled cheek, he brought his lips down upon his small lover’s, sealing their mouths together for all but a few seconds.

                “Shall we head to the room then?” he asked.

                Furiously nodding his head, the blonde chuckled at his eagerness. Adros entwined his hand with the elf’s and brought him further into the cave. Once in close proximity to the bed, Eiliandir couldn’t wait anymore and pulled the blonde into another kiss, this time not pulling back after a few seconds. They were finally getting to do this and he wanted to start as soon as possible. Adros, who was just as eager to do this, pulled the elf onto him and walked towards the bed. Eiliandir was placed on his back and immediately straddled by the dragon.

                “I will be completely honest…” Adros started, “I have not the slightest idea as to what to do.”

                “Neither do I but I have an idea…”

                Adros gave him a curious look.

                “D-Do not look at me in such a way!” he blushed, “Apparently my father fancied both sexes and gave me advice a few years ago.”

                The blonde hummed, leaning down to kiss his partner again, effectively ending the conversation. Lips moved fervently across each other as Eiliandir’s hands slid up Adros’ chest removing the dragon’s shawl in the process. He was grateful that he had decided not to wear an actual shirt today as it’s far too much work to get one off of him. The blonde’s scaly hands slipped underneath the elf’s burnished amber tunic and rubbed at his sides before lifting the clothing over the elf’s head and discarding it in a random direction. The blonde sat up to look at the markings and freckles sparsely scattered on his lover’s chest.

                “Wha-what might you be looking at?” the elf asked shyly.

                “I am merely admiring the view sia danthe.”

                Adros traced the A-like shape on Eiliandir’s chest and the marking going down the elf’s torso, finding delight when his muscles twitched underneath him. Deciding to continue, the blonde placed his lips on the elf’s neck and left small kisses down his chest while he thumbed at the boy’s cream-colored nipples. Eiliandir whined from the small amount of pleasure coming from his nipples being touched, miniscule noises escaping his lips. Since he’s never touched himself in his 100+ years, his body was overly sensitive to pretty much everything.

                “Eiliandir,” called Adros, gaining the elf’s attention, “Are you certain that you wish to proceed?”

                “Mmhmm,” he hummed, moving his hands from the dragon’s chest to his cheeks, “I have never wanted to do anything more than this. And I-um… I saved myself just for you so…”

                The dragon’s yellow pupils dilated, a predatory look in his eyes, as he grabbed onto the boy’s leggings and hip satchel, pulling them off and exposing his half-mast penis. He yelped in surprise from the sudden action. Eiliandir had never been naked in front of anyone before, not even when Nestor treated his wounds growing up. Before he could cover his reddening face, the taller man pinned his arms beside his head.

                “Do not conceal your face,“ Adros cooed, kissing the smaller boy’s forehead, “I wish to see you.”

                “… This is embarrassing…” he mumbled, eyes looking everywhere but at the body above him.

                “Worry not, I will join you in a state of undress, that way we can both be embarrassed.”

                Letting go of the elf’s wrists, Adros sat back on his legs and pulled his pants off. Once they were over his hips, Eiliandir’s eyes widened. The blonde’s sex was _nothing_ like his. Instead of smooth and (relatively) uniform, there were ridges and small bumps along the sides and it was wider at the base. He watched in a mixture of intimidation and aroused anticipation as his lover climbed back over him. The two kissed, a bit less feverish this time. Eiliandir ran his hands through the blonde’s silky locks, gently running his fingers over the small hornlets as Adros reached down, palming the elf’s dick. A breathy moan escaped Eiliandir’s mouth, spilling between their lips. The scaly hand on him gently wrapped around, moving his thumb over the tip teasing louder moans out of the elf. Eiliandir’s hips swiveled as he tried to gain more friction between him and the appendage, leg moving to rub against his lover’s side.

                The dragon paused his actions. Stating that he had an idea, Adros slipped down between the elf’s legs. Eiliandir didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing before a wave of pleasure washed over him. Apparently, his idea was to drive him insane, and apparently by putting the elf’s dick in his mouth. His back arched off the bed, legs trembling as the blonde worked his tongue against his lover’s member. He placed the side of his hand to his quivering lips and his other lightly grabbed at the blonde and green locks at his torso, his eyes tightly closed.

                “Ah… A-Adros!” he called, moaning loudly, “I am-hah! I am starting to feel weird! ‘T-Tis like I am going to explode!”

                Adros didn’t slow his actions, instead doing them a little harder. It felt so good. The thought of what was to come nearly made him cum but the dragon’s forked tongue finished the job. The blonde pulled away when his mouth filled with the thick liquid, some of it getting on his face. Realizing what had happened, he immediately began to ramble.

                “Forgive me, I could not control myself!” apologized the freckled elf as he sat up, “Quickly! Spit it out!”

                Ignoring his plea, he swallowed, much to the boy’s chagrin.

                “Why would I spit it out? You taste delicious,” teased the dragon as he wiped the cum on his face off with his thumb and licked it.   

                “You _must_ be joshing! That is repulsive!”

                Moving back up to his lover’s face, he kissed him, playing with the elf’s tongue. For some reason, being able to taste himself mixed with his lover’s tang turned him on immensely. Earning a small moan, the dragon pulled away. Eiliandir didn’t want to wait anymore. He _needed_ the blonde _now_.

                “I-In my satchel are two vials,” he blurted, “One of them contains an oil. Can you retrieve it?”

                Adros didn’t seem to understand why he needed that in particular but got up nonetheless. After digging through the discarded carrying case and finding the object in question, he made his way back to the elf who was now sitting on his knees on the bed. He was grateful that he had helped make the coconut oil back before everything went to hell.

                “I was told that when people first… ehm… have… intercourse… it… can be painful and in my father’s words ‘It is best to use a lubricant and you can never have enough’…,” he trailed as he poured some of the oil onto his fingers, cheeks as red as a tomato, “So… yeah.”

                Adros took his place back on the bed in front of the elf as he stood on his knees. Eiliandir raised his hips a bit more, using the blonde for leverage as he carefully slipped an oil covered finger inside of him. He wasn’t expecting it to feel so weird. It didn’t hurt or anything but it _was just_ a finger. His lover watched curiously as he worked the digit in circles.

                “What might you be doing?” Adros asked.

                Eiliandir looked away, fingers stilling for a moment before continuing.

                “In order to prevent my… _skin_ … from tearing a-and to make… initial entry as painless as possible, I must stretch the muscles with my fingers,” he explained quietly, “It is difficult to get them deep enough inside from this position however.”

                Eiliandir had a plump butt. It wasn’t too large but grabbing his cheeks was like holding onto two small pillows. Adros suggested that maybe he should do it since the angle would be different enough to help with the issue. Shyly agreeing, the elf removed his finger and asked the dragon for his hand. Grabbing the hand before him, the boy licked the scaly middle and index fingertips before sucking on three of the man’s fingers. At the sight, Adros’ already blown wide pupils couldn’t have gotten any larger. Immensely turned on by the silver-haired elf’s action, he was only able to muster a ‘why’ before he had to keep his primal urges at bay. Eiliandir didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to reply once he had thoroughly coated the blonde’s digits in saliva.

                “I had made my rear slick with the oil but your fingers were dry so I-um, took it upon myself to moisten them,” His words sounded closer to a question than a statement.

                The elf chuckled at the dragon’s flustered stupor, pecking him on the lips to snap him out of it.

                “Will you continue to stare at me?”

                “My apologizes. I was merely pondering about how much you tempt me,” he smirked sultrily, “Now, lay back and let me ravish you.”

                His words caused a fresh wave of arousal to wash over him, going straight to his nethers. Adros leaned forward, gently pushing Eiliandir onto his back, and reached down, slowly adding a finger (being careful of his pointed nails) and wiggled it around. In response, the elf grabbed at the blankets by his head, small noises escaping his lips. Adros added a second finger and moved them in a scissoring motion as he asked how the boy was doing.

                “It feels weird… but also pleasant at the same TIME!“

                His last word was spoken with a sharp intake, eyes shooting open, stopping the blonde’s actions.

                “Did I hurt you?” Adros asked urgently.

                Eiliandir shook his head.

                “No,” he moaned, eyes tearing from the pleasure, “That felt lovely!”

                Relieved that he didn’t injure his lover, he continued. Slipping in a third finger and moving them around, he searched for what had caused such an outburst. Once his lover cried out again, he continued to massage that spot as he went, kissing and nipping at the elf’s face, neck, and chest. Eiliandir’s body trembled, penis dripping with a clear liquid as the pleasure began to overwhelm him.

                “A-Adros!” he cried, begging him to get on with it.

                The man stopped his movements, leaving the elf a panting mess. Both of them were at their limit. The two shared a kiss as the dragon blindly reached for the vial of oil, opened it, and slathered some oil onto his hard penis, groaning at the contact.

                “I am going to put it in now, alright?” warned Adros.

                Eiliandir nodded, humming since his voice was too shaky to form proper words.  Connecting their mouths in a sloppy kiss, the blonde gently pushed the tip of his member into the boy’s anus and past the first ring of muscle. Small tears pricked at the corners of his eyes from the pain that he felt coming from his butt.

                “Ow. Ow, wait,” stopped the elven boy, causing the man to pull out.

                “Does it hurt?”

                His sentiment was appreciated but Eiliandir honestly wished that he would stop asking questions and help fix the problem so they could have sex already. He was incredibly close to flipping them over and riding him into next week. Hoping that Adros didn’t see the irritation on his face, he wiggled around a bit.

                “A small amount. Just... let me try something.”          

                Moving his legs to the dragon’s shoulders, he told him to push forward, nearly bending him in half. He was surprisingly flexible, he noted, as he felt that his legs could go further down without much resistance. Telling him to try again, Adros complied and entered the boy once more. That was much better as the pleasure greatly outweighed the small bit of pain that he was feeling. With his lover buried at the hilt, the elf’s quivered. Adros ran his hand along his lover’s forehead, pushing back the silver locks to get a better view of Eiliandir’s face curled in mild pleasure. He kissed his brow as he announced that the initial penetration was done before asking if he was in any pain. Too lost in the feeling of being full, Eiliandir did not answer. Adros thought that he wasn’t replying because he actually _was_ in some pain. Maybe, he thought, adding some pleasure may override any pain that the elf was feeling so he reached down, ready to gently touch the elf’s sex.

                “Stop, stop, stop!” cried Eiliandir, “It is going to come out again if you continue!”

                Adros jumped at the tone, taken aback by the outburst. The elf moaned at the sudden movement.

                “Sorry. I thought that you may have been in pain.”

                “The opposite. It had felt so delightful that I had to keep my voice in,” he explained as he entwined one of their hands, “If you kiss me I shall forgive you.”

                The dragon did not hesitate to seal their lips with a chaste kiss. It would have lasted longer but Adros was quick to bury his face in the boy’s chest. The man’s hair tickled his upper body, causing him to giggle.

                “Adros, that tickles,” he laughed.

                Eiliandir stopped when he felt something wet hit his skin. He lifted his head a bit.

                “Are you crying?”

                The blonde nodded.

                “I am merely glad that I was finally able to become one with you,” he replied, looking up, voice a tad broken from the tears.

                The elf gave a soft smile, a huff coming out of his nose as he reached up and slid his free hand along the side of his lover’s chin, feeling the roughness of the ridge-like horns on his face. He leaned up to the best of his ability and kissed the blonde.

                “I am also ecstatic that I am able to do this with you. I have dreamt of this day since before we had shared our first kiss. And that is why…” looking away shyly, he continued, voice dropping to a mumble, “I wanted you inside of me so very badly.”

                It took everything in the blonde’s power to not blow his load right there. If only Eiliandir knew the effect that he had on him.

                “I love you,” Adros breathed.

                “I love you a-mmm!”

                The dragon wasted no time, cutting off the elf with his lips. From there, Adros drew his hips back, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. The blonde moaned at the friction that he felt on his sex, resisting the urge to slam into the body underneath him. He slowly quickened his movements, listening to the sounds of his lover for a good speed. Waves of pleasure washed over them, the blonde’s moans mostly drowned out by the echoing of his lover’s vocal nature. Eiliandir’s free hand roamed the man’s shoulder, arm, and chest, searching for purchase, occasionally leaving welts in his wake from his nails. Adros kissed the elf on his jaw before peppering the body below him with open mouthed kisses. The elf’s mostly healed wounds on his back were starting to hurt from rubbing on the blankets, but that pain was quickly forgotten. He nearly screamed when Adros hit that special area inside of him. The elf moaned in complete ecstasy as the blonde made sure to hit it with every thrust.

                “Are you feeling pleasurable?” panted the dragon, accent noticeably thicker than before.

                “Yes!” moaned the elf who was practically drooling, “ _Incredibly wonderful_!”

                Wonderful wasn’t enough. He wanted his lover to feel so amazing that he melted underneath him. Reaching down, he grabbed a hold of the boy’s leaking member, gently stroking the tip.

                “A-Adros! Aah! What-what are you-?!” cried Eiliandir as he weakly grabbed at the man’s arm.

                “So sensitive…” teased the blonde.

                The dragon kissed the elf’s neck and continued to pound into him as he played with his lover’s penis. Overwhelmed by the sensory overload, the elf's’ nails dug into his lover’s upper arm, eyes closing tightly. Their moans were starting to become louder, they were close and they both could feel it. Adros’ thrusts became rougher and quicker as they sought out more of the pleasure that they were feeling, devolving ‘making love’ to unadulterated fucking as they grew closer and closer to climax. With each thrust, their moans increased in pitch and when Adros reached the pinnacle, he succumbed to all of the pleasure. Thrusting as deep as he could go, he released inside while leaning down and sinking his teeth into the junction between the elf’s lower neck and shoulder. The overwhelming bliss mixed with the pain from the bite sent the elf over the edge, coming between them. Ignoring the ejaculate on their chests, Adros slowly released his hold on the elf’s legs and laid flush against his chest, kissing him. The metallic taste of blood mingled on their tongues as they relished in the afterglow of their first time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wanted a comparison, here's what a dragon dildo looks like  
> https://bad-dragon.com/images/product_images/00537_resized.jpg


	23. Temp. Hiatus

So, I haven't had much of a motivation to continue on with the Ring Of Gemini series so I've put it on a temporary hiatus. I've mostly been in the review and editing stage because I've written up to Ch. 32 (of 36-38 chpts) a while ago. I would continue to post the chapters up until then but where I left off would be a major cliffhanger so I'll just leave it where it is for now I guess. 

**Author's Note:**

> These are my own original characters! Any likeness to actual characters is purely coincidence! This novel was made for Nanowrimo 2016! It's a winner!


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